


Innocent Until Presumed Guilty

by GreyHaven, YumeArashi



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, M/M, Organized Crime, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyHaven/pseuds/GreyHaven, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeArashi/pseuds/YumeArashi
Summary: When Duke finds a dead body on his boat, his first instinct is to call Nathan for help. He doesn't get the reaction he was hoping for and now he's scared and desperate. Can anyone clear Duke's name before it's too late?Updates coming every Friday :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Inspired by[this post](http://gingersnapwolves.tumblr.com/post/139176362294/todays-3-am-notes-seen-on-tv-guy-a-accused-of) on Tumblr:_
> 
> _Guy A accused of terrible crime, boyfriend (guy B) does not believe his protests of innocence. Guy A dies, then innocence is proven, leaving guy B heartbroken that he didn’t believe his love when it mattered and will never have a chance to reconcile._
> 
> _Write fix-it fic for this scenario_
> 
>    
> Fair warning that we gave our angst free rein with this one and it's....well, angsty. It was difficult to know how to tag it because Spoilers but I (GreyHaven) decided it would be best to tag for the whole fic so you know what you're getting yourself into, rather than update the tags with each chapter.
> 
> So you can just enjoy the angst, safe in the knowledge that we've fixed it and there is a happy ending <3

This was...really not good. Duke stared down at the body that was lying in the galley of the Rouge. The body that had definitely not been there when he went out. The body that was very clearly dead. At least, if the bullet hole in his head and the amount of blood on the floor was anything to go by.

A quick check of the pulse confirmed that. Duke stood up and pulled his phone out of his pocket to call Nathan.

"Duke, what's up?" Nathan asked, a smile in his voice for his boyfriend.

“Can you…” Duke swallowed hard. How the _hell_ was he going to explain this. “I'm fine, but can you just come here and...bring the cavalry. And Gloria.”

"Duke?  Where are you?  What's wrong? I'm on my way," he hit speakerphone and started texting Dwight and Gloria to meet him.

“I'm at home. Nate... I'll explain when you get here…” That seemed easiest.

"Okay, I'm heading over now.  Asked Dwight and Gloria to join me there.  What do you need?"

_An alibi, a lawyer, a large whisky, and about sixty million bottles of bleach?_ Duke didn't say it. “Nothing else, you'll know better than me. Sorry for being cryptic.” He ended the call.

Nathan swore and hopped in the Bronco, gunning the engine.  He raced to the docks and ran up the gangplank on the Rouge, calling for Duke.

Duke met him on the deck. He took a deep breath. “So the first thing you need to know is, I didn't do it.”

"What didn't you do, Duke?" Nathan asked, worry sharpening his voice.

“The dead guy. In my kitchen. I had nothing to do with it.”

"There's a dead guy in your kitchen?" Nathan yelled, horrified.

“And this is why I waited until you got here,” Duke rolled his eyes. Pretty much the reaction he'd been expecting. “Yes, there's a dead guy in my kitchen. I didn't kill him.”

"And you didn't call 911?  Holy shit this looks bad, Duke!  Have you been in the kitchen?"

“I called you. You answer faster than 911. Yes, I've been in the kitchen. I thought it might be a good idea to check if the dead guy was, you know, _actually dead_.”

Nathan rubbed his hands over his face.  "Jesus Christ, Duke…"

It was then that Dwight pulled up and got out of his patrol car, heading up the gangplank.  "What's going on?"

“Someone left a dead guy in my kitchen,” Duke said. “Or maybe they killed a guy in my kitchen, probably the latter, given the amount of blood. And he's definitely dead. I checked.”

Dwight's eyebrows rose into his hairline.  He pulled out his radio and requested a crime scene team and officers to secure the location.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Nathan asked Duke quietly.  "The Rouge is going to be a crime scene, you can't stay here.  And I don't think I'll be allowed to let you stay with me."

“Yeah, I can stay at the Gull, apartment’s empty right now,” Duke nodded.

"Okay, be careful, be safe.  I don't think I'll be able to talk to you much until this is sorted out," Nathan worried.

That was an unwelcome thought, one that hadn't occurred to Duke until now. “You believe me, right? I had nothing to do with this.” If nothing else, he needed to hear that from Nathan.

"It doesn't look good, Duke.  If you say you didn't do it then I believe you, but it doesn't look good."

“I know it doesn't fucking look good,” Duke said, his temper rising. “That's precisely why I called you first. So you can _help me_.”

"Duke, I'll do what I can but you realize I won't be allowed anywhere near this case.  I'm your _boyfriend_."

“Yeah, no, I know you can't do anything _officially_ , but you can still keep me updated, sneak me information. We could do our own investigation, off the record. There's more to this, Nate, this isn't just _coincidence_.”

"Duke.  That will make you look guilty as hell, plus it'd mean additional criminal charges for you, not to mention I'd get fired and brought up on charges too - which means I wouldn't be in a position to help you anymore.  I believe you when you say there's more to this, and I'll make sure whoever's investigating does it right instead of just assuming you're guilty from the get-go, but you're going to have to trust us. And I know that's asking a lot of you, believe me, but anything else will just make it worse."

Duke thought on that, his mind racing, wanting nothing else other than to _run_ , to get the fuck out of here. He couldn't do that, though, that would just convince them of his guilt. He nodded. “I trust you. Everyone else, not so much.”

"I'll make sure no one fucks this up.  That much at least I can do."

“Helpful, Nate,” Duke rolled his eyes.  “Guess I might as well have just called 911.”

"Honestly?  You probably should have, it would have looked better for you."

“I thought you’d be able to help me,” Duke’s voice was bleak.  Hopeless. He was well aware of just how bad this looked.

"Duke, I will do everything I can.  If you aren't guilty, then that's what the investigation will show."

“Blind faith, huh, Nate?  Just believe in the system because everyone knows _that_ never goes wrong,” Duke replied bitterly.

"Duke, I know it does but I will make sure they do this right."

“Nathan,” Duke ran his hands through his hair.  “You don’t get it. I can’t go back to prison. I shouldn’t have called you, I should’ve just handled it myself.”

"Duke!  You should absolutely not have handled it yourself, and for god's sake don't say anything like that again.  You will get through this, okay, you just have to have a little faith. And I know that's asking a lot, okay, I know that, but you _have_ to."

“Have faith in cops?!  Come on, Nate, you know how well that’s gone for me before.  What the fuck makes you think it’ll be any different this time?”

"Have faith in _me_ , Duke.  Not cops.  Me."

“I _had_ faith in you.  To help me. That’s _why_ I called you.  But you’re not helping, you’re just….you’re just fucking _placating_ me, telling me everything’s going to be fine.  It isn’t, Nate. It isn’t going to be _fine_.”

"Duke, I'm not saying this is gonna be easy, you have a dead man in your goddamned kitchen!  I'm saying that we'll get through this if you just trust me and be patient!"

“Do you have _any fucking idea_ how patronizing that is?  Trust you and be patient? Because that’s so fucking easy, isn’t it?  For you, anyway. You’re not risking anything, sitting comfortably behind that nice desk of yours.  If this goes to hell, what do you lose? Nothing. It’s all on me. And you want me to _trust you_ and be fucking _patient_?”

"Given that your other option is to 'handle it yourself' and _definitely_ end up in jail for life, yeah, I damn well do!"

“I can’t do that.”

"For fuck's sake, Duke, are you really gonna hang yourself with your own rope rather than listen to the guy who actually knows what the hell to do in this situation?"

“Fuck you, Nate,” Duke said quietly, his calm tone belying his anger.  “You have no idea what to do. If you did, you’d have given me some actual advice instead of just telling me to wait it out.”

"I have plenty of goddamn advice, I was trying to get you calm enough to actually listen to it!"

“I am calm!” Duke protested.  “Come on then, what’s the advice?  And - fair warning - if you tell me to trust you, trust the system, and be patient, _again_ , I’m probably gonna punch something.”

Nathan bit back a sigh.  "For starters, you probably already know this, but get a lawyer, and I mean now.  And actually _listen_ to what he tells you.  Cooperate with Haven PD, and for god's sake don't mouth off."

“Oh that’s really fucking helpful.  Tell me something I don’t know.”

Nathan bit back his first retort.  "Don't come back here to the Rouge.  Don't try to contact me outside of coming to see me in person at the station, in the bullpen - publicly and with plenty of officers to witness that the interaction is aboveboard.  Don't contact anyone from your shady past. Don't withdraw a whole bunch of money from the bank or go digging up emergency stashes. For god's sake don't make travel arrangements. And don't go digging into this on your own."

“So basically...don’t do anything.  Just sit and fucking wait and hope this goes my way.  Yeah, great.”

"I didn't say it'd be easy, Duke," Nathan said sharply.  "I'm trying to keep you out of fucking jail, could you maybe meet me halfway here?"

“Fine,” Duke threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender.  “I’ll be a good boy and take your advice and sit and do nothing.  Guess I’ll see you around, Detective Wuornos.”

Frustrated, sad, and angry, Nathan turned to go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duke goes to the station to give his statement. It doesn't go as well as he'd hoped.

Dwight led Duke into his office and switched on a tape recorder.  "I'm going to take your statement. Just tell me what happened, in as much detail as you can recall."

Duke bit back his first response, something sarcastic about not _knowing_ what happened, given the fact he wasn’t _actually there_ when it happened.  Nathan had told him to cooperate and maybe (just maybe) this was a good time to actually take some advice.  “Ok, first up, I can I.D. your victim. His name’s Tony Scalisi. That’s probably short for Antonio but I only know him as Tony.  He’s from Boston, runs with an organized crime crew down there.”

Dwight nodded.  In addition to the recording, he had a notepad and pencil and was jotting down notes.

“I last saw him two nights ago.  He came to the Gull, wanting money.  We argued, we didn’t fight. He left.  I haven’t seen him or heard from him since then.  I don’t know why he wanted money, he just said I owed him from a...job.  It was years ago. You could say we were...business associates.” Duke inwardly cursed himself for not taking Nathan’s advice about getting a lawyer.  Dragging up all this old stuff was probably not going to do him any favours, but he trusted lawyers about as much as he trusted cops. Which was to say, he didn’t.

"Business associates how, and what job?"

“Business associates in that he hired me to move some less-than-legal stuff.  I don’t know what it was, I never asked, always seemed safer not to. Locked crates, I picked them up, moved them, he paid me, job done.”

"And why did he think you owed him?"

“He said something had gone missing, a short shipment.  He didn’t raise it at the time and I have no recollection of a short shipment.  I kept records, I would have noticed.”

"Did you tell him you had records?"

“Yeah, I told him I could prove it and he could come back to the Gull the following day and I’d have the books ready for him to look at.  He didn’t come back. The books should still be in the safe at the Gull.”

"We're going to need those," Dwight told him.  "And the details of the job in question, if they're not already in there."

“I’ll drop them in tomorrow, or you can send someone round to collect them,” Duke said.  “And can I just point out that I’m being _helpful_ and a good citizen and maybe there’s no need to look too closely at jobs I was doing ten years ago?”

"That'll be taken into account," Dwight agreed.  "And the statute of limitations may well come into play also."

Duke’s shoulders sagged.  He’d been hoping for slightly more reassurance than that, but it would have to do.  “Ok, thanks.”

"I'll send someone over to pick up the books.  I'll need the combination to the safe, unless someone else there has it."

“Only me.  3853.”

Dwight nodded.  "I'll go over myself, make sure it's locked up properly after."

“Thanks, Dwight, appreciate that,” Duke nodded.

"I believe you didn't do this.  I know it's not easy, but working with us like you just did is going to help you a lot."

Duke smiled slightly.  Maybe Nathan’s advice wasn’t so useless after all.  He cleared his throat. “I’ll do everything I can to help.  Tony might have been a weaselly piece of shit but he didn’t deserve that.”

"Duly noted.  Tell me about today, walk me through it step by step."

“Ok… I  left the Rouge just after ten this morning.  I had a lunchtime meeting planned with a potential new supplier - craft beers for the Gull.  Guy came in last week with samples - they were good so I set up a meeting for today. It was in Derry so I drove there, to the address he gave me - look, it’s here on his business card,” - Duke handed Dwight the card - “Except when I got there, the address didn’t exist.  There was nothing there. An empty lot. So I swore a lot, as you might expect, and drove home, arrived just before three this afternoon. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the door to the Rouge was locked exactly how I’d left it, so I just went in. The smell hit me first…”  Duke felt the colour drain from his face at the memory. He might be no stranger to crime but violence was a different matter and the overwhelming scent of blood as he walked in was something he wouldn’t easily forget.

Dwight nodded.  "Good. Keep going," he encouraged.

Duke swallowed hard.  “So I went through to the galley and found Tony.  He was pretty obviously dead but I checked for a pulse.  Just in case. There wasn’t one so I called Nathan. He’s been giving me hell about that.  Says I should’ve called 911, but I thought he’d be faster,” Duke paused, took a breath. “And honestly?  I was pretty shocked and I kinda wanted to see him. Not that that went particularly well. Maybe I was wrong, but I did ask him to - and I quote - bring the cavalry, and Gloria.  Which he did.”

"Okay.  Did you touch anything indoors besides the victim's pulse point?"

“Since I got home?  No. But obviously I live there, my prints, DNA, are going to be everywhere.”

"Honestly, that will help you more than anything.  Easiest thing in the world for a defense lawyer to explain away anything like that.  It's more important to know that you didn't alter anything at the scene."

Duke nodded, somewhat relieved.  He hadn’t thought about it like that.  “I didn’t touch anything. Door handle, victims pulse, that’s it.  Didn’t move anything, barely even breathed. As soon as I realised he didn’t have a pulse, I got the hell outta there, waited for Nathan on the deck.  You arrived a couple of minutes after he did.”

"Smart.  All right, here's what we're gonna do next.  You can use my phone to call a lawyer. I can take down messages for whoever's left in charge over at the Gull, whoever you need to look after the Rouge once we clear the crime scene, stuff like that.  We're gonna have to keep you until we find something that strongly points either to your innocence or someone else as a suspect, but I'll make sure the guys don't dawdle processing the scene. I don't imagine that's what you want to hear right now, but that's what's gonna happen.  I can give you a fair shake - but no more."

“Am I under arrest?  Because if not, you can’t keep me here,” Duke crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Unfortunately, Duke…" Dwight paused as one of the uniformed officers knocked on his door.  He motioned him in, and the officer came over to whisper in his ear. Dwight's face grew grim.  He nodded and dismissed the officer, then turned to Duke. "Duke Crocker, you are under arrest for the murder of Tony Scalisi."  He proceeded to read Duke his rights.

“What the hell?”  Duke’s hands shook with barely controlled anger.

"We found a gun on the boat, stashed under the couch.  Know anything about that?”

Duke paled and nodded.

“From preliminary examination it looks consistent with the murder weapon.  We need to wait for ballistic reports but until they come back, you’re under arrest.  You're welcome to a lawyer and if you're choosing to not say anything further until they get here, I honestly recommend that.  You're going to need a good one."

_Fuck_.  So much for Nathan’s advice of cooperating.  Should’ve just stayed quiet. Or just dealt with the whole problem himself.  “Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid, Dwight? To kill a guy on my own boat with my own gun and then call my cop boyfriend and ask him to bring the Chief of Police with him?  I’d have to be an _idiot_ to do that and you know me far too well to believe I could be that stupid.”

"You're right, I do.  Soon's we have something that justifies cutting you loose, I will.  But I've got to make sure every i is dotted and every t crossed here.  You can't afford to look like we went easy on you. You can't afford it at trial, if it comes to that, and you can't afford Haven PD being pulled off the case due to bias.  If I don't do this right, you'll end up paying the price."

He had a point.  Duke nodded. “Ok, then I’ll take your advice and keep my mouth shut until my lawyer gets here.  You said I could borrow your phone?”

Dwight nodded and pushed it across the desk to him.

“Privacy?”  Duke glared at him.  

"Can't do that.  Sorry."

“Fine,” Duke sighed, picked up the phone and dialled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duke gets released but he isn't out of hot water yet. Dwight lays things on the line for Nathan.

“Great fucking advice, Nate,” Duke hissed as he walked past Nathan on his way out of the police station.  His lawyer had finally managed to get him released pending further investigation. Something about Haven PD not having enough to charge him and a load of legal jargon that he didn’t understand but was sure as hell going to research as soon as he got back to the Gull.  Well, maybe after a shower, several whiskys and some decent food. Two nights in a police cell and he was nearly ready to actually commit a murder to get some creature comforts.

Nathan looked guilty and distressed, but didn't dare reply.

Duke shot him a filthy look and kept walking.  His only hope was that Dwight’s team would find some sort of evidence that would clear him - a hope that was slowly dwindling.  He walked back to the Gull - even his Land Rover had been impounded, along with his phone, his laptop, all of his cash, and his bank accounts had been frozen.

He stopped in at the bar, just briefly, checking in with Tracy before he went upstairs to the apartment.  He kept a few clothes there and a stash of whisky. That would do for tonight. At least the bed was more comfortable than the cot in the police cell.  He downed a glass of whisky and by the time he’d finished in the shower he felt a lot more like _normal_.

Normal.  As though there was anything _normal_ about this whole fucking thing.  Randomly appearing dead bodies. It had to be a set up.  Someone was trying to frame him for this and he just had to work out _who_.  Somehow.  Without alerting the police that he was up to something.  He could really do with Nathan’s help, he thought bitterly.

_Fucking Nathan_.  He’d called Nathan because he needed him.  Not so much for what he could do (even in his shock at finding Tony’s body, he knew Nathan wouldn’t be able to do much), but for his _support_ and Nathan hadn’t even been able to do that.  He’d just tried to placate him, keep him calm until Dwight could arrest him and that _stung_.

He pulled on a fresh set of clothes and went back down to the bar in search of food and something resembling routine.  Pour some drinks, chat to customers. Anything except dwelling on the clusterfuck his life had become in just three short days.  Anything except thinking about Nathan.

****

Dwight strode into Nathan's office.  “Got a minute? My office?”

"Yeah, of course," Nathan stood and followed him back to the chief's office.

“Duke tried to get in touch with you?”  Dwight asked after he’d closed the door.

"Not unless you count walking past me in the bullpen and muttering 'great fucking advice, Nate'."

“That it?  Nothing else?”

"Nothing else.  I've been staying away, chief, I know better than to contact a suspect of a crime I'm not investigating myself.  Check my landline and cell phone records if you want, and the camera footage for the holding cells. I haven't been near him.  Only reason I was today is I figure it was safe enough out in the bullpen surrounded by other cops to witness that I wasn't telling him anything."

“Good,” Dwight said briskly.  “Sorry I had to ask, gotta keep everything above board.”

Nathan shook his head.  "I know you do, for his own damn good.  Not that there's any relationship left there to save."

“That bad, huh?”

"It's obvious he thinks I screwed him.  The look on his face, he hates my guts. Sure bet that the first thing he'll do when we exonerate him is going to be to beat the shit out of me.  Can't say I plan to stop him."

Dwight raised an eyebrow.  “Sit down, Nathan,” it was an order more than a request.  He leaned back in his chair and waited while Nathan pulled a spare chair up and sat opposite him.  “First up, should I be worried about what you just said? Is beating the shit out of you a regular occurence?”

Nathan blinked.  "What? No, nothing like that.  We used to fight when we were younger, before we got together, but just in the way young guys fight.  I gave as good as I got. Didn't mean he abuses me, just that he's gonna be pissed I got him thrown to the wolves."

“Ok,” Dwight ran his hands across his face.  “Off the record - I’m speaking as your friend now, not your chief - it’s not looking good.”

"I know," Nathan said glumly.  "Guy comes to shake Duke down for money, turns up in his home dead, Duke's prints and DNA everywhere."

“Yeah.  And Gloria’s report came back.  There’s further testing needed but she’s confirmed the cause of death was the gunshot wound to the head, and that it looks like a 9mm.  It matches the Ruger we found under Duke’s couch, which he’s confirmed is his.”

Nathan ran a hand over his face.  "Jesus. Have we found the bullet?  Has ballistics confirmed a match?"

“They’re still running tests, should get the results in a coupla days.”

"It will be.  Whoever did this really wanted it to look like Duke did it.  They'll have used one of his own guns," Nathan muttered. "I can't believe his best argument is 'I'm not this stupid'."

Dwight nodded.  “It’s a good argument but it won’t clear him.  I believe him, but… The evidence is all pointing in his direction and it’s hard to ignore.”

Nathan nodded gloomily.  "Anyone who knows him would agree, but a judge and jury won't.  And even if they did, it'd be too easy to argue he did it with exactly that defense in mind."

“Yeah.  I’ll keep looking, keep digging, but no alibi, his boat being the murder scene, a motive, the weapon was his.  It’s gonna take _a lot_ , Nathan.”

"I know," Nathan said unhappily.  "Don't suppose he's said anything about who might want to frame him?"

“That’s what I was about to ask you.  Is there anything he’s mentioned? Any names from his past, even.  Something we can work with?”

"No, he never talks about his past, ever.  God, Duke. I know he doesn't trust police and I can't even blame him but I really wish he'd trust us.  He's only hurting himself by not cooperating and I don't know why he can't see that," Nathan said, frustrated.

“He _is_ cooperating,” Dwight said firmly.  “But only to a point. He won’t talk about jobs he’s done in the past, only that he knew the victim when he was running ‘stuff’ for some mob boss down in Boston.  Which doesn’t actually help very much.”

Nathan looked all the more frustrated.  "I get that he doesn't want to incriminate himself but doesn't he know we're not gonna use it against him?  We probably couldn't charge him with most of that even if we wanted to, given how long it's been."

“Told him that but he’s suspicious.  I’ll see what I can piece together from the books that were in his safe but first glance suggests there’s no names in there.  Which is what I’d expect.”

"I'm surprised he wrote it down at all.  Or at the very least, that it's not all in some unbreakable code plus written in some obscure foreign language he picked up in his travels, encrypted Urdu or something."

Dwight couldn’t quite suppress a chuckle.  “There is that. I’m sorry I can’t do more, Nathan.  He doesn’t deserve this. Way he’s turned his life around the way he has.  But I can’t ignore evidence and I wouldn’t mind betting we can expect a visit from the FBI any day now.”

"Not your fault, I know you can't.  Odds are already high enough the FBI's gonna kick us right off this case the second they show up _without_ us giving them any reasons to suspect incompetence or corruption."

“That’s why I had to do everything by the book.  I didn’t want to arrest him, but… It needs to be above board.  If we stand any chance at clearing his name, we - _he_ \- can’t afford for there to be any questions about our involvement.”

"Couldn't agree more.  Got no complaints how you handled this.  Any favors we did him now would only be worse for him in the long run."

Dwight nodded. “I shouldn't be doing this, but if there's any message you want me to pass on to him for you, just say the word.”

"What's the point?" Nathan said quietly, miserably.  "If I told him I'm sorry, that I'm not abandoning him, that I really was trying to help, he wouldn't believe me.  He hates me and wants nothing to do with me. His right."

“He hates everyone right now, not just you. I'll...let him know you're sorry. I think he needs to hear that at least, especially if the next time you see each other is when you're called to testify at his trial.”

"The trial," Nathan groaned.  "I am _really_ hoping it does not come down to that."

“I think we're all hoping that. I'll keep digging, find out everything I can, but…”

"But it doesn't look good.  I know," Nathan agreed unhappily.

Dwight nodded. “If you're struggling with this, if you need some time off, go fishing or whatever, you have a load of personal days saved up.”

"Thanks, but you need me here, where you can keep an eye on me, making sure I'm above board."

“No, what I need is for you to be on the ball. I'm gonna be tied up with this for weeks which means I need you looking after everything else. Can't afford for you to be distracted.”

"Then you can't afford for me to take off on you, either.  Don't worry, Chief. I'll do my very best," Nathan said seriously.

“Never doubted it,” Dwight said. “But honestly, I'd rather have you out for a couple days than distracted for weeks. You say you're ok? Fine, work, but you need the time, you take it. Understood?”

"Understood," Nathan nodded respectfully.  "With all due respect, though, rather be here working other cases to take my mind off it than sitting at home with nothing to do but stew."

“Fine by me,” Dwight replied. “I think there's a new eyewitness for the Hansen burglary, needs interviewing. Take Stan with you.”

"Roger that Chief.  And just between you and me - thanks."

Dwight nodded. “I'll keep you updated as much as I can, Nathan, but it might not be much. Long as you know I'm doing everything possible. No stone unturned.”

"I know.  I trust you.  Just wish I could help too."

“Yeah,” Dwight sighed. “I wish you could too, could really use your help on this,” he stood up from his chair and stretched. “Anyone asks, we've been discussing the Hansen case,” he passed Nathan the file.

Nathan nodded, taking the file and heading out, shoulders slumped in defeat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey arrives in town and starts investigating the case

Dwight looked up at a knock on his office door and a businesslike “Chief Hendrickson?”

"That's me.  What can I do for you?" he asked, considering the smartly-dressed tiny blonde woman in the doorway of his office.  

“Special Agent Audrey Parker, FBI,” she strode across the office to shake his hand, flipping her badge at him as she did so. “I'm here about the Scalisi murder.”

Dwight kept a blank face, not letting his thoughts show.  "Of course. Let me get you the case file. I've been working it personally."

“Thanks,” the agent nodded. “I'd appreciate your input, it always helps to have local knowledge and you've been on this from the start.”

Dwight nodded.  Feds always said that.  He pulled the file and set it out on the desk.  "Let me walk you through it."

“That'd be good,” she took a seat opposite him. “The victim was part of an organized crime gang that I'm investigating, so I might be able to fill in some background for you.”

"Be glad to know more.  So far we haven't been able to find out much about him."

“Antonio Scalisi, forty seven, not one of the big guns but involved enough. Never been able to pin anything on him but he's suspected of plenty. Everything from weapons smuggling to drugs to extortion. Can't say I'm sorry he's dead, it's one less low-life on my patch, but solving his murder could get me information on the gang bosses.”

Dwight mulled that over.  "He have anyone in particular gunning for him that you know of?  His own boss, rivals, anyone like that? More than usual for mob muscle, I mean."

“No one I know, about but these guys don't talk to us. We have a few CI’s but I'm not turning up anything on him. As far as I can tell, he hasn't pissed off the wrong people, hasn't stuck his nose into anything he shouldn't. That's not to say he _hasn't_ , just that I don't know about it.”

Dwight nodded.  "You open to my opinion, or you want to stick to the facts?"

“Opinion's fine, I can get the facts from the file.”

"I think the obvious answer's too easy.  Duke Crocker's got a sheet but he went legit years ago, and while I might believe he'd kill Scalisi if he was backed into a corner, he's too smart to be this sloppy about it.  I think if he had killed Scalisi, we never would have found the body, much less finding it on his boat with the murder weapon practically right next to it with his prints still on it.  Crocker's a lot of things, but stupid has never been one of them."

Audrey thought on that and nodded slowly. “It does seem too easy. I'll keep an open mind but I can't ignore the evidence. He called a friend in the department instead of 911? What's your take on that?”

"It doesn't surprise me, but I don't think he was trying to pull any funny business.  Crocker grew up rough - criminal dad, drug addicted mom, both violently abusive and neglectful.  He was basically on the streets by the time he was a teenager, his dad dead and his mom wandered off.  And this town….has a long memory. Crocker name isn't a good one to have. Haven never gave him a chance, no job or housing or help of any kind.  No surprise he turned to crime to put food in his mouth. Never anything violent, though, you'll notice from his record. Made enough money smuggling to come back here, buy a restaurant, go legit.  But he never has and never will trust the law. Can't really blame him, given how many of those arrests on record are petty bullshit. He won a harassment case for it, got the old chief forced into early retirement, in fact.  He called Wuornos because he needed help and didn't trust anyone else, not because he wanted to cover it up. Wuornos would've been the last guy to call if he wanted that - he's so clean he wasn't even implicated in the harassment case against his own father, and that got more'n half the cops in this town in hot water."

“Ok, I'll want to speak to Detective Wuornos, make my own judgement on that,” Audrey said. “Got a desk I can use? I'd like to go through the file before I start interviewing anyone.”

"Of course.  In fact, Wuornos has a spare desk in his office."

“Great,” Audrey smiled. At least she was getting a reasonably warm welcome, which wasn't always the case - local police departments generally weren't impressed with FBI involvement. “Anything else you think I should know?”

"I'd appreciate if you can keep an open mind on this one.  I know how bad it looks. But Crocker turned his life around, and I respect that.  Hate to see that thrown away if this really is the frame job he's insisting it is."

“I won't jump to any conclusions, I'll wait and see where the evidence points once everything's processed.”

"Thanks.  Let me know what we can do to help, Haven PD's at your disposal.  I'll show you the office you'll be using," Dwight stood.

“If you can make sure I get any reports as soon as they come in, that'd be great,” Audrey smiled warmly and followed him out of the room.

"Of course," Dwight agreed.  He led her over to Nathan's office, knocking on the doorframe as he came in.  "Nathan, meet Special Agent Audrey Parker, FBI. She'll be using the desk in here.  Agent Parker, Detective Nathan Wuornos."

"Pleased to meet you," Nathan stood to shake her hand, trying to keep everything he felt off of his face.

“Detective,” Audrey greeted him and shook his hand. “Sorry for invading your office.”

"No need, desk wasn't being used.  Let me know if you need anything." Nathan was dying to ask her dozens of question, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing better.

“Let me get settled, go through the file, then I'd like to talk to you if you can spare me some time,” Audrey said briskly, still trying to get a read on the poker faced detective. “In the meantime, if you could point me in the direction of the coffee machine, I'd appreciate it.”

"Of course," Nathan led the way to the little kitchenette.  "To be honest, though, you're better off stopping off at the Black House Coffee Shop instead, this stuff's swill."

“It always is,” Audrey laughed. “Thanks for the recommendation.” She poured herself a mug and brandished the coffee pot in Nathan's direction. “Want one?”

"Thanks," Nathan nodded.

Audrey poured another mug and passed it to him. “Any other recommendations would be welcome too, where to stay, where to eat. Always better to ask a local and I'm sure I can trust you to not send me to the crap places, can't I?” She smiled sweetly.

"Rosemary's for pastries, Seashell Inn B&B, and," Nathan tried to keep his face straight, but wasn't sure he entirely succeeded, "Grey Gull for meals or drinks."

Audrey raised one eyebrow and suppressed a smirk. “Really? The Grey Gull, owned by the number one suspect who you happen to be dating? Yeah, I do my homework, detective.”

Nathan tensed defensively.  "Didn't figure you hadn't. Really is the best food in town, don't believe me, try the rest."

“Ok,” Audrey smiled as her mind ticked over, working out why he was being defensive. Had she caught him poking fun at the FBI agent, or was it having his relationship with a suspect brought up? “I'll check it out.” It would be a good opportunity to see what Duke Crocker was like on home territory.

Nathan nodded and led the way back to his office, burying himself in work.

Audrey spent the morning going through the Scalisi file. She'd seen a summary, knew most of the details, but it was always worth going back over things, looking for anything the initial investigators might have missed. She closed the file quietly, impressed. Haven PD had been _thorough_.

She leaned back in her chair and looked over at Nathan who had his head buried in his own file and was studiously ignoring her. “Detective?”

Nathan looked up and lifted an eyebrow.

“I could really do with asking you some questions about this,” Audrey waved the file at him. “Are you happy to talk to me now or would you rather wait?”

"Ask away."

“Duke Crocker called you that afternoon. Why do you think he did that? Instead of 911, I mean,” of all the tiny details about this case, that was the one that was bugging Audrey the most and she needed to know how involved Nathan was with the suspect, whether she could trust any insights he might have or whether she should keep him out of the loop entirely.

"Duke doesn't trust cops," Nathan said shortly, his stone face hiding his guilt and hurt at the way Duke had trusted _him_ , and had that trust broken.

“Yeah, Chief Hendrickson explained that, about his background and everything,” Audrey said. “I was asking why he called _you._ What was he hoping you could do?”

"Clear him on the spot, m'guessing."

Audrey narrowed her eyes, tapped a pen against the desk. “I don't think so. His rap sheet suggests he knows police procedure better than that. How close are you guys?”

"Chief likely told you we were dating."

“It's in the file but that tells me nothing. Dating could be the occasional Friday night hook up or it could be one step away from moving in together,” Audrey leaned her elbows on her desk. “I'm asking which it is and I'm asking because I need to know how much distance I have to keep between you and this case.”

"It's complicated.  Had a love-hate relationship since childhood.  Been tipping more towards the first since he went legit.  We never put a name on it, never talked about where it's going.  Never figured he'd want to settle down, but then never thought he'd go legit either.  I let him set the pace."

“Ok,” Audrey said, still no clearer than she had been before she asked. “So, you knew him when he was stealing and smuggling?”

"Yeah.  More the 'hate' part of the love-hate thing."

“I'm sure,” Audrey smiled. “And he didn't come to you for help back then? Never asked you to fix anything for him?”

Nathan shook his head.  "Never once. Not even when I was the one busting him.  He was uncooperative as hell and a mouthy little shit, but never tried bribes or any other funny business."

“So when he called you this time, he wanted his...friend, boyfriend, whatever. He wanted your support, not your help. That your take on it too?”

"I think he did.  But to be fair, I think he wanted someone who'd believe him.  He knew how bad it looked, and the police have never given him a fair shake in his life.  He's scared, though he'd never admit it. He's sure he's going up the river for good."

“Honestly? He's probably right.”

"I know.  And he does too. Pretty safe to say I no longer have romantic motive for helping him at this point."

“His choice or yours?” Audrey asked bluntly. “Sorry for all the personal questions. Just need to figure out where your head’s at and where his might be.”

Nathan nodded curtly.  "His. He hates my guts."

“Ok,” Audrey said quietly. “Sorry. He hasn't mentioned anything about his past, contacts, jobs, anything that might help us? Because this whole case doesn't sit right with me, it's too easy, too _obvious_. I believe there's more to it but without evidence, I can't do anything.”

"He won't talk to the chief or anyone else on the force.  Don't know if he'd talk to me, I haven't been in contact with him since it happened - for obvious reasons."

“Well…” Audrey thought for a moment. “You questioning him is very much against procedure. You introducing me as someone else he can trust - assuming you believe he can trust me, that is - think that might help?”

"Think it'd be a tough sell.  You're an outsider - you don't know him or have any reason to believe him or think well of him.  He'll assume you're just gonna see the obvious and nail him with it."

“Ok,” Audrey shrugged. “I was mainly offering to put you two in the same room together for five minutes but that's fine, I'll introduce myself, get some lunch while I'm there.”

Nathan blinked and blurted, "Wait, what?"

“I can't let you talk to him on your own. I can ask you to make an introduction, let him know that he can trust me and that I'm digging into this and not taking the evidence at face value. He might not believe it, but it might just help in getting him to open up. And, of course, there's always the outside chance that my phone will ring and I'll have to excuse myself for a few minutes.”

"Why would you do that for us?" Nathan asked quietly.  "You don't know us, you have no reason to help us."

“Because I'm a sucker for romance,” Audrey smirked. “No, because you're clearly hurting which means he probably is too, and if he sees me do that then it might help with the whole trust thing. Not being entirely altruistic here.”

"Might do.  'Course, he might also just yell at me the whole time."

“He might. I mean, if you'd rather not then I'm quite happy to go on my own but it's lunchtime and I'm hungry and you said the food is good there.”

"No, I….I'd really like to," Nathan said softly.  "Thank you for this. Even if he does just yell."

“Come on then,” Audrey was already on her feet and halfway out of the office, shrugging on her jacket as she went.

Nathan grabbed his own jacket and dashed after her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duke and Nathan finally get a chance to talk

Duke looked up as they entered the bar. He glanced away, tried to decide if he could get away with hiding out in his office - but Nathan had already seen him, his steely gaze locked onto Duke, leaving no room for escape.

Audrey recognised Duke from the photo in the file. He visibly tensed as soon as he saw them, shoulders hunched around his ears, the easy smile dropped away from his face. _Crap_. This might have been a mistake. She hung back a step, let Nathan lead the way.

“Detective Wuornos,” Duke greeted before Nathan could say a word. “And a very pretty lady. What can I do for you two? A romantic table by the water, perhaps?”

"Duke," Nathan said quietly.  "This is Agent Parker, FBI."

Audrey reached across the bar to shake his hand, feeling foolish when he didn't take it and instead just stared at her. "Duke," she greeted him by his first name. She got the feeling he wouldn't take kindly to his surname being used. 

"Agent Parker," Duke kept his tone clipped and short. Formal.

"Agent Parker wants to give you a chance," Nathan told Duke.  "Hoping you'll let her."

“A chance. Right,” Duke spat out. “You know what? Talk to my lawyer. Unless she's here, my answer to anything you might ask - either of you - is _no comment._ ”

Nathan could hardly object to that, when it was his own advice.  He looked to the FBI agent, silently asking how she wanted to proceed.

“Fair,” Audrey smiled. “But we're just here for lunch so maybe we could have a couple of menus.”

Duke nodded curtly and passed them over. “Specials are on the board over there,” - he pointed - “Presumably you'd like drinks as well?”

Audrey took them from him. “Thanks. Orange juice for me, please.”

Duke nodded. “You?” He glared at Nathan.

"Just water," Nathan mumbled, hoping Duke wouldn't spit in it.

Duke nodded again.  “I’ll set up a tab if you’re eating as well,” he could at least be professional.  “Don’t expect any freebies, wouldn’t want to be accused of bribery on top of everything else.”

"Of course," Nathan nodded, his shoulders hunching.

Audrey studied him as he served their drinks.  Nathan had been right, everything about Duke - his tone of voice, his body language - was defensive. _Scared._  If she pushed, he’d back off even further, clam up, and she wouldn’t get a word out of him.  “So what do you recommend?” She indicated the menu.

Duke shrugged and put their drinks in front of them, resisting the urge to slam the glasses down (or possibly to throw Nathan’s at him).  “It’s all good, Agent Parker, I don’t serve up bad food.”

"He's right about that," Nathan offered, a little warily.

“Whatever you’re here for, _Detective Wuornos_ , I can assure you that flattering me will get you precisely nowhere,” Duke snapped.

Nathan's shoulders drooped.

Audrey took a sip of her orange juice.  “Lunch, Duke. No ulterior motive. Just lunch.”

Nathan wasn't really hungry, and he was pretty sure that even if the water didn't have spit the food definitely would, but he nodded anyhow.  “You can trust us, Duke. Like she said, just lunch.”

“That little word again, huh, Nate?   _Trust_ ,” Duke sneered.

Audrey glanced from one to the other and pulled her phone out of her pocket.  “Excuse me for a moment, I need to take this call,” she turned and walked away, pretending to talk on the phone while she studied the specials board.

Duke blinked.  “Her phone didn’t actually ring, did it?”

"No," Nathan said softly.  "She's giving us a chance to see each other.  To talk to each other."

“Right, right,” Duke nodded.  “Giving you a chance to smooth the way, get me to trust her, open up, confess my crimes, that sort of thing.  I get it.”

"I knew this was a bad idea,"  Nathan rubbed a hand over his face.  "Duke, we are looking for someone else who might have done this but you won't give us that.  What will it take?"

Duke scoffed.  “The first chance you get to speak to me since this all happened and the only thing you can talk about is the case?  How about ‘how are you, Duke?’ or ‘is there anything you need given the fact you don’t have a home, a vehicle, or any money?’.  You want to talk about _trust_? You want to know what it’ll take?  Try giving a shit about something other than your job, Nathan.”

"Duke, I do.  All this is for you.  You wanted my help and I'm trying to give it to you," Nathan said pleadingly.  "Everything I've done since you called, every last thing, has been to help you.  Including staying away, including focusing on the case."

“You want to know why I really called you?”  Duke didn’t wait for Nathan to answer. “I knew full well there wasn’t anything practical you could do to help me.  I knew you wouldn’t be allowed near the case. I’m surprised you’re this close to it. No, I called you because I needed my friend.  My boyfriend. I needed someone to fucking hold my hand and stand beside me and maybe even give me a hug and just tell me it would be ok.  I knew - I _know_ \- full well that it won’t be but I needed to hear that.  And you...you just yelled at me, gave me useless advice. So yeah, maybe you’re trying to help in your own way but you weren’t there when I needed you.  I was on my own, same as always. I don’t know why I ever expected anything different.”

"Okay, Duke," Nathan said softly.  "I get it. You don't want me here.  I'll go." He pulled out his wallet and dropped a few twenty-dollar bills on the bar.  "Let Parker get whatever she wants and keep the rest."

“No, you don’t get it,” Duke pushed the money back with a shake of his head.  “I tell you that you weren’t there for me when I needed you and your answer is to leave?  I _still_ fucking need you, Nate.  But you want to walk away?  Again? Fine, go.”

"What do you want from me, Duke?" Nathan said, frustrated.  "You ask for my help but don't want it. You tell me you want me to be there for you but do your damndest to drive me away.  You want to get free of this but won't help us clear your name. Hell, you won't even take my money after you just said you didn't have any."

Silence as Duke thought on that.  Maybe what he was doing did amount to pushing Nathan away.  “Ok,” he said eventually. “You have a point. I’m sorry. I can’t take your money, that would just look even worse, for both of us.  I’ll come and talk to Agent Parker, at the station, with my lawyer. I can’t take the risk that she’ll use anything I say against me. As for what I need from you… Just...Nate, just tell me it’s going to be ok.  Please.”

"It's going to be okay," Nathan said earnestly.  "I know it looks bad but we all know it's not what it looks like, even Parker agrees.  Dwight's been handling this personally, and nothing else - Parker was impressed by the casefile, I could tell.  We've done everything by the book, no room for anyone to say we were biased. All we need now is some idea who really did it, and that's where you can help.  Parker's been working on the organization Scalisi was part of, between the two of you we might be able to put together a proper picture of who really did this."

Duke nodded.  “Good to know, thanks.  I meant it, I’ll come into the station.  I’ll call my lawyer and set it up later.”

"Thanks, Duke," Nathan said softly.  "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you.  I've wanted to - it's killing me not to see you, not to talk to you even.  Even asked Dwight to put me on suspension so I could, but he said that wouldn't help."

“You did that?”  Duke smiled - a tiny smile, but it was there nonetheless.

"Yeah.  Figured if I was suspended without pay, no contact with the department, couldn't be accused of any funny business.  Wish he'd let me."

“Thanks, Nate,” Duke said quietly.  “You have no idea how much it helps to hear that.  But he’s right, it wouldn’t help and it could just fuck things up for you.”

"Don't give a damn about me," Nathan said with feeling.  "But we don't want to give a prosecutor any advantage. Can't take any risk that might end up hurting you.  Even this….honestly, shouldn't be happening. Parker's doing us a hell of a favor."

“She is, I just can’t work out why.”

“Why what?”  Audrey interrupted them.

“Why you’re letting us talk to each other,” Duke answered bluntly, pushing off the bar where he’d been leaning on his elbows and standing up straight with his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh, that?”  Audrey smirked.  “Because I have to share an office with Detective Wuornos and he was sulking and I can’t deal with _sulking_.”

Nathan gave her a sulky look.  "Was not sulking."

“He’s sulking, right?”  Audrey asked Duke with a smile.

He couldn’t help but smile back.  “He’s sulking. Same look he uses when I won’t serve him pancakes for dinner for the fourth night running.”

"Hey," Nathan protested halfheartedly.

Audrey laughed.  “Ok, Duke, I’ll level with you because honesty is the only way we’re gonna get through this.  I’m letting you two talk because you need to trust us and I thought using Nathan would be the best way to get you to do that.  And I’m sorry that I had to resort to manipulating you but you working with us is the only way we can get to the bottom of this.”

Duke nodded.  Pretty much what he’d assumed from the get go, but at least she was being upfront about it.  That was an improvement on most cops. “I’ll call my lawyer, set up a time to come into the station.”

“Great,” Audrey replied, not quite able to keep the relief out of her voice.  “For now, lunch, because I am _starving_.”

“Pasta alfredo,” Duke said.  “You asked for recommendations earlier, that’s what I’d recommend.  Comes with chicken and bacon. I’ll even go and make it myself.”

“Perfect, thank you,” Audrey smiled.

“Good with you, Nate?”  Duke checked. “I’m _not_ making pancakes.”

"Everything you make is amazing," Nathan said honestly.  "No flattery, just the plain truth. Missed your cooking like hell, be honest.  Almost as much as I've missed you."

“I’ve missed you too,” Duke said quietly.  “Two pasta alfredo coming up. Grab a table, I’ll bring it over.”

“Thanks Duke,” Audrey smiled again.  This had gone far better than she’d expected.  She picked up her drink and chose a table overlooking the ocean.

Nathan followed suit, settling his long limbs in the chair.  "Thank you, Parker," he said quietly.

Audrey shook her head. “It was the right thing to do. You two needed that chance to talk, I needed him to trust me and maybe we're not there yet but it's a start.”

"Hell of a gamble.  He damn near bit my head off and tossed me out on my ass."

“It was. I trusted you to make sure that didn't happen. And if he had, then I could have taken his side, developed a bond that way.”

"Not sure whether to be impressed or a little disturbed," Nathan said frankly.  "It almost went that way. Was about to blow it entirely."

“Oh, impressed. Definitely impressed,” Audrey grinned. “But I do see your point, it was horribly manipulative which is why I was upfront with him about it. And you didn't blow it, which is what matters.”

"Guess so.  Really hoping this can be the turning point," Nathan said softly.

“I hope so too, I need his help to help him. There's no other way.”

"I know.  We've tried to explain that to him.  I hope he gets it now."

Audrey nodded. “I can't have you involved in the investigation, questioning him, anything like that. But of course you might _accidentally_ overhear some stuff, sharing an office as we are, or there might be paperwork on my desk,” she gave Nathan a meaningful look.

"I appreciate that Parker, I really do.  But even a suspicion of impropriety could hurt Duke's case.  We've worked so hard to do everything absolutely by the book to avoid any bias that the DA could use against him.  Even this was risky, and as badly as he and I both needed it, we probably shouldn't have."

Audrey smiled. “Chief was right about you.”

Nathan blinked.  "Why, what'd he say?"

“Said you were so clean you squeak. Not in those words but I got his meaning. And you're right, we probably shouldn't have done this. But it served a purpose and it's just lunch.”

"Not saying I'm not grateful," Nathan said softly.  "Wish I could be there for him. That's what he needs more'n anything.  Confirmed that was why he called me that day. But I can't, can't be there for him as his boyfriend or as a friend, can't even help him as a police officer."

“Nope, you can't be and I know how tough that must be, but you're gonna have to trust me and the Chief to get to the bottom of this. You and Duke both.”

"I do," Nathan said quietly.  "I hope he can too."

Audrey nodded and jerked her head slightly, in the direction of Duke who had just come out of the kitchen.

“Two pasta alfredo,” he said as he set them down with his customary flourish. “I did the bacon extra crispy for you, Nate.”

"You're amazing, Duke," Nathan said softly, his heart in his eyes.

Duke smiled softly back at him. _Gods_ , it was good to see him, to clear the air, but it wasn't _enough_. So many words he wanted to say.  “Thanks,” he said, hoping Nathan would know he meant for _everything_.

"Thank _you_ , Duke," Nathan told him  "For understanding that I'm doing what I can for you, even though that means doing nothing."

“I know you are,” Duke cleared his throat. “Anything else I can get for you? More drinks?”

“Not for me, thanks, Duke. This looks delicious,” Audrey smiled.

Duke nodded and returned the smile. “Nate? Anything for you?”

"Club soda with lemon and mint?" Nathan asked hopefully.

“Coming up,” Duke grinned.

Nathan gave Duke another soft smile, his expression as he watched Duke walk back to the bar the exact opposite of the stony blankness Audrey had first seen in him.

“I'll do everything I can to fix this, Nathan,” she said, her voice low so that it wouldn't carry over to Duke at the bar.

"Thank you," Nathan said quietly.  "Means the world to me. Duke worked too hard to get his life straightened out to lose it all now."

Audrey nodded. “The chief filled me in on his background. It's just another thing that doesn't add up - why would he kill Tony and risk all that?”

"He wouldn't.  Only reason he'd ever kill would be self defense, and if that were it he'd be honest about it - at least to me, if no one else."

“Well hopefully when he comes in, I'll be able to get him talking, get to the bottom of this,” Audrey said.

"I hope so," Nathan sighed.

“This food is amazing, Duke,” Audrey told him when he came back with Nathan's drink - complete with a straw and umbrella.

“You’ll find nothing but the best in this establishment, Agent Parker,” Duke grinned and set Nathan's drink down.

Nathan gave Duke a brief grin.  "She thought I was trying to pull something when I recommended this as the best place to eat in town."

Duke put on a shocked expression, his hand resting over his heart. “I'm offended. Deeply, deeply, hurt by even the _suggestion_ that this might not be the best place to eat in Haven.”

Audrey rolled her eyes. “Then you have my sincere apologies and I will happily confirm that it's the best place to eat just as soon as I've tried all of the other places so I can make a fair comparison.”

"Don't waste your money," Nathan smiled.

“I wasn't planning on it,” Audrey stage whispered. “But don't tell him that.”

Duke laughed softly. “I should probably make myself scarce. Enjoy your meals, you can settle up with Nora at the bar.”

Nathan nodded.  "Be strong, Duke," he said softly, his eyes sad.

“Always,” Duke replied just as softly, the hint of a smile on his lips as he turned to go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duke answers some more questions at the station and Audrey helps him collect some of his stuff from the Rouge

Duke drummed his fingers on the table as he waited in the interview room. His lawyer sat beside him but that was little reassurance. Cooperating with cops - _with the fucking FBI_ , no less - did not come easily to him. Just as he was on the verge of saying that he'd changed his mind, that he wanted to leave, Audrey swept in.   
  
"Duke," she greeted him and switched on the tape recorder. "Just need to confirm what your lawyer asked for - we won't be pursuing any prosecution for your former business activities so you're free to speak openly about any crimes from your past without fear that it'll come back and bite you. Happy with that?"   
  
Duke couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief. "Yeah, thanks."

Audrey gave him a reassuring smile.  "Tell us about your place in the organization."

“I wasn’t really a part of it, they - well, Tony - hired me to move stuff.  It was regular work, every couple of weeks. I told Dwight - uh, Chief Hendrickson - that I didn’t know what was in the crates and that’s the truth.  I can make an educated guess but it’d be just that.”

"Go ahead and guess, please."

“Drugs and/or weapons, maybe some contraband but I doubt they’d have come to me for much of that seeing as I was their main competitor for that at the time.”

Audrey nodded.  "What do you know about Scalisi's relationship to the rest of the organization?"

“He was in pretty deep, from what I could gather.  Always said he was the boss’s right hand man but I got the feeling it was mostly talk, trying to make himself look big.  He was definitely involved but not a decision maker.”

Audrey nodded.  "What do you know about the rest of the organization?  Ever have contact with anyone else? Did the boss know Scalisi was subcontracting his work to an outsider?"

“Italian organisation, old school, church on Sundays, murder on Mondays, that sorta thing.  Rivals with the Russians and the Irish mob, lots of animosity between them all. I only ever dealt with Tony, he dropped a few names here and there but I never met anyone else.  No idea if the boss knew he was subcontracting, or if the boss even knew who I was. Tony played his cards pretty close to his chest, what I know is mostly what I picked up from asking around.”

Audrey passed him a notebook.  "If you could write down those names for me, please.  Did you ever feel that you were in danger from the higher-ups?"

Duke took the notebook and shook his head. “No more than you'd expect. I knew to toe the line and not ask any questions, not screw them over, but no. No threats were made.” He wrote down the names he could remember and passed the pad back.

"Threats aren't always explicit.  Was there anything about the situation that made you feel you were in danger?"

Duke leaned forwards, his elbows on the table. “Agent Parker, I was dealing with the Italian mob, _everything_ about the situation made me feel like I was in danger.”

Audrey nodded, satisfied.  "So tell me about some of the things our search of the Rouge turned up - the surprising quantity of unregistered weapons cached in various places, the stash of cash, the bags with the fake IDs and other things you'd need for a quick getaway."

“You know my background, Agent Parker. With my record, I wasn't going to get a weapon legally. They date back to my smuggling days when I was dealing with some very unsavoury characters and some form of defending myself seemed like a sensible idea. I didn't get rid of them in case someone turned up looking for me - which apparently, they have done. The cash is all legitimately obtained, I just prefer to keep it where I can see it, not in the bank. The go bags are in case I need to leave quickly - either because someone tracks me down, or a natural disaster befalls Haven, any number of reasons I might need to leave fast. The fake ID would give me breathing space if I needed people to not find me. I could have grabbed a bag and left that day I found Tony, but I didn't…”

"Yes, and to be honest, your decision to stay then - and your ongoing decision to stay now - will count in your favor.  There's one gun in particular I'm interested in. A Ruger 9mm we found under your couch. It's been confirmed as the murder weapon.  This one is registered to the name on one of your fake ID’s, and it has your DNA and fingerprints."

Duke nodded. “I already told Chief Hendrickson that it's mine. Had it for years. I keep it close to hand in case I ever need it but I've never fired it in anger, just practice shots when I've been out at sea and that hasn't been recently.”

Audrey nodded.  "All right. It's no surprise that Scalisi would turn up dead - guys like him don't tend to make it to old age.  But I'm interested in the why. Why now, and why on your boat with your gun. You've said this is a frame up - tell me why someone might want to frame you, and who."

Duke ran a hand across his face. “Well that's the billion dollar question, isn't it? Look, it's no secret everyone in this town hates my guts, it wouldn't surprise me if it was someone local, but I just can't see it. There's no one who hates me enough for _this_. From my past...could be any number of people. Pissed off husbands with long memories, probably a pissed off wife or two for that matter. Former business associates are always a possibility in my line of work but no one in particular springs to mind - I didn't push my luck, didn’t double cross anyone - and this wouldn't be their style. If it was someone like that, I'd be the one lying in the morgue with a bullet hole in my head.”

"Fair enough.  Still, if you write down the names of anyone you think could be a possibility, we can start looking into them.  Might be we'll turn up something useful." She pushed the pad back over to him.

Duke started writing, racking his brain for anyone who might be involved. Most of them, he was pretty certain, wouldn't have enough motive or inclination (or ability) to go to these lengths, but hey, it wasn't his time he was wasting with it. “I could be a while, might want to grab yourself a coffee.”

"I'm fine.  You need anything?  Glass of water?"

“No. Thanks,” Duke kept writing, name after name, filling three pages before he sat back and pushed the pad back to Audrey. “That's it, all I can think of. Most of them’ll be a waste of time but you did say anyone who might be a possibility.”

Audrey shrugged.  "That's the nature of police work - 95% wasting time and 5% tracking down productive leads.  I'd rather spend days eliminating wild goose chases than miss something that might turn out to be something significant.  Deciding something isn't worth looking into is sloppy police work, and it's how innocent men go to jail while killers walk free."

Duke nodded as an uncomfortable thought occurred to him. “Give me that pad back,” he scrawled another name on the list - the name of the former police chief who'd been found guilty of harassing him and been forced to retire.

"Garland Wuornos?" Audrey's eyebrows rose.

Duke shrugged. “Wild goose chase. Probably. But he has a motive and he knows enough about evidence to pull it off, as well as knowing enough about me to make it look convincing.”

"You might not be wrong," Audrey mused.

“I hope I _am_ wrong, for Nathan's sake.”

Audrey grimaced.  "Yeah, I really don't want to have to put his dad in jail for murder."

Duke nodded. “It was bad enough when he was forced to retire, but this…?”

"Hopefully he wouldn't go that far."

“I'm pretty sure he wouldn't. He might’ve arrested me for a lot of petty bullshit but he never planted evidence and he had plenty of opportunities to. But you said everyone, so if there's even a remote possibility he did it, he needs to be on that list.”

Audrey nodded.  "You're right, and I'll be taking a much closer look at the corruption case."

“Good, thanks,” Duke hesitated. “How much longer do you think you'll need the Rouge secured for?”

Audrey looked apologetic.  "If it were just your home, we could release it - the crime scene guys have been through and the place has been searched.  But you're considered a flight risk, so we can't release your vehicles. Which includes the Rouge."

“Any chance I can get in to pick up some clothes, personal possessions, that sort of thing?”

"We can arrange an escort for that," Audrey nodded.  

“Thanks. The sooner the better, if that's possible.”

Audrey nodded.  "I think we're done here for the moment, let's go see who Dwight can spare to head down there with you right now."

“That'd be good, thank you, Agent Parker. At this rate I might add you to the _very_ short list of cops I don't hate.”

"Thanks, Duke," Audrey smiled.  "I can't blame you for hating us, after what you went through."

“Plenty of cops gave me plenty of reasons,” Duke nodded. “Nice to meet some of the good ones for a change.”

"We're out there.  Some of us genuinely believe in 'protect and serve'."

“Good to know. Was beginning to think you might be an endangered species.”

"In some places, yeah.  A lot of it depends on leadership.  Where the higher ups tolerate corruption and bigotry, corrupt and bigoted cops end up comprising the force.  When leadership takes a stand and enforces consequences, you see the culture change."

“Yeah,” Duke nodded. “The cops here are better than they used to be, since the old Chief left. Dwight - Chief Hendrickson - he's one of the good ones.”

Audrey nodded.  "I can tell. The minute I enter a bullpen I can get a sense of what kind of force I'm walking into - most female officers can.  I've seen nothing but respect and integrity and competence from Haven PD. I know things look bad for you and I know it's hard for you to believe after what you've been through, but this time the law really is on your side.  We want to catch a murderer, not persecute a guy with a reputation."

“Then I'll have to trust you and the Chief to do your jobs,” Duke tried to smile.

"Thank you," Audrey said softly.  "I know that doesn't come easy. We'll do right by you, even when things look grim.  That's a promise."

“Thanks,” Duke's smile was more genuine this time.

Audrey smiled back.  "Thank _you,_ Duke.  Come on, let's go see about getting you a visit home."

“Well I do have my reputation as Haven's finest fashion icon to uphold,” Duke smirked as he thanked his lawyer and followed Audrey out of the small interview room. “I can't do that wearing these old things.”

"You're a funny guy, Duke," Audrey smiled, leading the way to the chief's office.

“I try my best,” Duke flashed a soft smile at Nathan who was lurking in the bullpen. He knew better than to try to stop and talk but ignoring him completely felt wrong too.

Nathan smiled back, a look full of longing and worry layered over the frustration of inactivity.

“Agent Parker, Duke,” Dwight greeted them both as they came into his office. “What can I do for you?”

"Do you have anyone you can spare to escort Duke for a visit to the Rouge now that the evidence and search teams are done with it?  He knows we can't release it yet but he just needs some personal belongings. I don't see any reason to refuse, as long as we supervise the visit."

Dwight sighed. “Sorry Duke, it's flat out - burglary spree so I've got officers tied up all over the place. I'm free but I'm too close to the case. Wuornos is free but obviously, no. Which leaves you, Agent Parker, or I can arrange someone for tomorrow.”

"I can do it.  I've been meaning to go down there anyhow, I haven't actually had a chance to see the crime scene yet, and I want to get a feel for the place."

“Kills two birds with one stone, then,” Dwight said as he passed her the keys - Duke's keys as well as an extra one for the additional padlock they'd put on the door of the wheelhouse.

"Thanks.  Duke, you ready?"

“All set. Thanks Dwight,” Duke nodded in his direction.

Dwight returned the nod. “I'll need the keys back by this evening, need to lock them in the safe overnight.”

"Of course.  Duke, you need anything else while we're out?  I know you don't have a car, so if there's anywhere you need to stop, we could do that."

“No, but thanks,” Duke followed her out of the office. “My accounts are still frozen and you guys have all my cash so…”

"I think we can afford to cover some basic necessities.  If you're exonerated then you can make a claim against Haven PD for reimbursement of losses stemming from the stay in the holding cells and the seizure of your property.  Consider this an advance on that."

“Really?” Duke raised his eyebrows. That was...unusual. “You can do that?”

"It's not well known, but yes.  Most police forces will consider it a preferable alternative to a potential lawsuit for wrongful arrest, unless the claim is particularly outrageous.  Not that you'd have a very good shot at such a lawsuit, but under the circumstances I don't think Chief Hendrickson will object to a reasonable request for reimbursement.  If he has a problem with it, have him talk to me and maybe I can work something out with the bureau. If this turns out to be tied to Scalisi's organization and we can use it to break them, we'll be happy to help.  We've been trying to nail them for years."

“Good to know, thanks,” Duke nodded. “I just hope you can find who's really responsible.”

"I certainly do too.  For your sake and the sake of anyone else the murderer may plan to kill."

Duke sighed deeply. “There is that, too.”

"So," Audrey asked as they reached her car.  "Where do you need to go?"

“I...could do with picking up a cheap phone, a few groceries. Everything else I can get from home.”

"Groceries we can do.  I'm afraid we can't really let you have a burner phone."

“Fine,” Duke had thought he might be pushing his luck with that. And really, who was he going to call anyway? “Groceries it is, then.”

Audrey nodded and headed for Haven's little grocery store.

“Thanks for this, Agent Parker,” Duke said. “In fact, do I have to keep calling you Agent Parker because it's a bit of a mouthful and if we're going to be spending the afternoon together…?”

"In public, it's Agent Parker.  In private, Audrey is fine. And if you think you'll slip up going back and forth, stick with Agent Parker."

“Hi Audrey,” Duke flashed her a grin.

"Hi, Duke," Audrey said, amused.  "Let's get you some groceries."

“Great,” Duke waited while she pulled on the parking brake before he leapt out of the car. There wasn't much he needed - the Gull was well stocked on food and the business accounts hadn't been frozen completely - Tracy was still able to sign checks so at least suppliers were being paid and the business could run smoothly. In a way, it was disconcerting that the bar was working just fine without him.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the few bits he needed - a few toiletries, some food that he didn't have at the Gull - and he quickly went to the checkout where Audrey was waiting for him. “All done,” he smiled.

Audrey nodded and paid for the groceries, helping carry them out to the car.  "You've been staying at the Gull, right? Do you have somewhere to put these that your employees won't confuse them for restaurant ingredients?"

“I do. I'm staying in the apartment upstairs, no reason for employees to be up there.”

"Lucky you're between tenants."

“Only bit of good luck I've had since this whole thing blew up.”

"Well, I'm glad you have a place to stay," Audrey smiled as she headed over to the restaurant.

“Yeah, I mean...what would I do otherwise? Sleep on the streets again?”

"You don't have anyone who would let you crash for a little bit?" Audrey asked gently.

“Really not. Nathan. That's it. Dwight, maybe, at a push.”

Audrey's face softened.  "I'm sorry, Duke. I wish I could do more."

“Not your fault, Audrey. This whole town has hated me since the day I was born. Stupid to think I could come back and be anything else here. Should've stayed away, kept smuggling.”

"Stayed away, maybe but kept smuggling?  No, Duke. You've turned your life around and that's amazing.  Do you know how few people I've seen in my entire law enforcement career who've managed that?"

“Yeah, and look where it got me. Still on the wrong side of the law and I haven't even fucking done anything. I _know_ you're trying to work this out, I know Dwight's trying, but right now I can't see any way out of this. Whoever's framing me has done a fucking good job of it.”

"Every criminal screws up.  We'll find where this guy did.  I'm not letting this go until I have the truth.  Because you're _not_ on the wrong side of the law.   Innocent until proven guilty, Duke.  You're a free citizen and as deserving of the law's protection as any other."

“Right. So much a free citizen that I can't go home, I can't have my truck back, I can't be trusted with a phone, or with my own, legally obtained, money. I appreciate that you believe in me and that you're not just going for the easy win - because it would be exactly that, don't think I don't know that - but don't say I'm a free citizen when I'm not,” Duke got out of her car and resisted the temptation to slam the door. It wasn't Audrey he was angry at - if he was even angry at all. He was too tired, too _numb,_ to feel much at all any more.

"Duke, I know I can't imagine how tough this is for you, and I'm sorry we can't do more.  But you know how this looks. You know that until we clear your name there's going to be only so much we can do.  That sucks, and I'm sorry it sucks, but it's not unreasonable. I know it's no consolation to know we're doing all we can, but it doesn't make it any less true," Audrey said, sympathetically but firmly.

Duke nodded and turned away. Carrying his bags of groceries, he slowly made his way up the stairs to the apartment. ‘ _Be patient, Duke_ ’, that's all everyone ever said, but exactly how long was he supposed to be patient for? Weeks? Months? _Indefinitely?_ He took a deep breath and had a smile plastered back onto his face by the time Audrey had followed him up the stairs.

Audrey followed him in, looking around appreciatively as she set the bag down.  "Nice little place."

“Thanks, I spent a bit of time doing it up when I bought the place. It was just storage before.”

"You rent it out for the summer?  Might be interested once all this is said and done."

“I usually do long term rental but I could be persuaded to make an exception for you,” Duke smiled.

"You're a peach," Audrey grinned.  "Need to grab anything before we head over to the Rouge?"

“Nope, I'm all good. Ready when you are.”

Audrey nodded and headed back down the stairs.  "Chief Hendrickson tells me the harbormaster's been doing maintenance on the Rouge while it's impounded."

Duke smiled. “Yeah, she came into the Gull to let me know she was on top of it all. One less thing for me to worry about.”

"I'm glad of that," Audrey smiled back.  "I know this is really hard on you and there's only so much we can do, but is there anything that would make it easier that we _can_ do for you?"

“No, but thank you,” Duke said softly. “The only things that would make it easier are things you can't do.”

"I wish I could," Audrey said sympathetically.

“Thanks,” Duke lapsed into silence for the rest of the short journey, only perking up again when the Rouge came into view. His boat. His _home_ , even if he wasn't allowed there on his own. It was still good to see it.

"So this is the famous Cape Rouge, huh?" Audrey smiled as she parked alongside and climbed out of the car.

“Here she is,” Duke grinned back and jumped aboard, his feet barely touching the gangplank.

"Good to be home, huh?" Audrey said gently.

“You have no idea,” Duke held out his hand for the keys.

Audrey gave him an apologetic smile and unlocked the door for him.

Duke rolled his eyes. Couldn't even be trusted with his own fucking keys while under _FBI supervision_. He stepped inside and his heart sank.

Everything was _wrong_. Oh, they'd cleaned up from the murder - a fact he was _very_ grateful for - and they'd tidied away after the searches (he thought Dwight might have insisted on that) but it was _wrong_. His home had that feeling that someone else had been here. Everything was tidy but nothing was in the right place, nothing had been left untouched, it was all...sullied, somehow. It felt like an invasion - worse, almost, than finding a dead body in the galley because that had been _straightforward_. Now…? Now, everything he owned had been touched by unknown hands and it was _intrusive._ He swallowed hard against the nausea that rushed through him and started picking up the few personal possessions he needed to see him through until this was all over. If that was ever going to happen.

"I'm sorry, Duke," Audrey said softly.

“Don't,” he replied flatly. He stuffed another couple of shirts into a backpack and closed it. He just wanted to get out of here.

Audrey wisely didn't say anything more, waiting until Duke was done and heading out again to lock up.

“Presumably I can be trusted to walk back to the Gull? I mean, I'm not actually under house arrest there?” Duke snapped.

"If you don't want a ride, you're welcome to walk home."

_Home_. What a fucking joke that was. “I don't think I know where home is anymore. You know where to find me, Agent Parker.”

Audrey nodded, saying nothing more as he walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go from bad to worse when a new witness comes forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just...y'know, have some more angst...

Audrey spent days going over the list of names Duke had given her. No wonder he'd felt the need to have weapons to hand, there were some very dangerous people on the list. In fact, she'd go as far as to say the Italian mob were pretty low on the list of people to be worried about. Every name had checked out, either with a solid alibi or a lack of decent motive. She leaned back in her chair, sighed and tossed her pen onto the desk.

Dwight’s head appeared round the door of the office.  “Audrey?” He said, after a quick glance in Nathan’s direction.  “My office?”

Audrey nodded and followed him. “What's up, Chief?”

Dwight closed the door behind him and sat at his desk. He let out a deep sigh and passed a sheet of paper to Audrey. “Witness has come forward. Claims to have been on the docks, saw Duke and Tony arguing on the deck of the Rouge, saw them go below, heard a gunshot.”

Audrey frowned.  "Who's this witness?"

“One Roberto Cassini, ‘business associate’ of the victim, says they were together when they ran into Duke.  Tony told him to go wait in the car which was parked up near the Rouge. As soon as he heard the shot, he got the hell outta there.  He’s asking for protection. Against Duke. Convinced his life is in danger as long as Duke’s around.”

"And if Duke were guilty and covering his ass with the old 'I'm being framed' routine, you don't think he'd have mentioned this?" Audrey said skeptically.  "Never thought to bring up that there was someone who could finger him like that? Come up with any kind of story to cover his ass? Or gotten rid of the witness?"

Dwight ran his hand across his face.  “Yup. Duke isn’t that sloppy. He’d have some sort of story lined up.”

Audrey scowled.  "But he was on the dock the whole time?  He didn't meet Duke himself? So there would be a possibility Duke might not have known he was there?"

“Says Duke saw him briefly before Tony sent him back to the car.  He didn’t go aboard the Rouge but yeah, according to his statement, Duke knew he was there.”

"Sloppy of him.  If it weren't for that, I might almost say there was something to this.  It'd still be sketchy as hell, since he works for the mob, but I could at least concede it could be possible.  I'm thinking this is looking more like it was the mob who wanted Scalisi dead and Duke framed. Maybe they didn't know Scalisi was outsourcing and wanted to teach them both a lesson."

“I agree, but Audrey, this guy’s _convincing_.  He’s running scared - whether that’s from Duke or someone else, I don’t know, but the DA believes him and he’s pushing for an arrest.  Says we have enough to charge Duke with murder.”

"I just bet he's running scared," Audrey frowned.  "I don't like it, but we can't not act on this. We'll have to bring Duke in.  We can keep working the case, and hopefully we'll be able to exonerate him, but if bad goes to worse I think he has a very good chance at trial.  The trial won't take place in Haven so the jury won't be biased against him, so that will help. And even if we can't absolutely prove Duke didn't do it, between the so-called witness's mob ties and the fact that the DNA and prints are meaningless, even a half-awake defense lawyer will be able to show reasonable doubt. We just have to keep Duke from panicking and agreeing to whatever bullshit plea deal the DA offers - because you know damn well the DA's aware how flimsy the case is, they won't want to see it go to trial and get shredded in court."

Dwight nodded.  “That’s my feeling too.  Duke’s best chance is for it to go to trial.  Even if the judge doesn’t throw it out, the jury won’t convict.  Not on the basis of this. He won’t take a plea deal, no matter what they offer.  He’s a gambler, kicked my ass at poker more times than I want to admit to. He’ll take his chances.”

"He might be a gambler, but he's scared, too.  We'll have to explain that the DA doesn't have a chance and is just trying to scare him into taking the plea deal because he knows he can't win a  trial. He's gonna take this hard," Audrey grimaced.

“I’ll make sure his lawyer knows the score, up to her to advise him but I know her, she’s too smart to fall for an obvious trap like this.  And you and I should be the ones to arrest him. I don’t want anyone else doing it.”

"I agree.  And I know it's unorthodox, but I think we should bring Nathan.  I think Duke's much more likely to trust us if he's there."

Dwight sighed.  “I don’t know. We don’t want accusations of anything untoward and having Nathan there could leave us open to that.  I’d also prefer to spare both of them from that. Protect Duke’s privacy by not having his partner watch him get arrested.  Nathan could do without seeing that too. I think it’d be best if I told Nathan to take the day off, keep him well away from the whole thing.”

"I see your points.  But Duke's privacy is going to be violated all through this process - being arrested and held in jail and going through a murder trial is never private, especially in a small town like Haven.  I think in the end it will do more good to have Nathan there to comfort and reassure Duke and keep him from panicking into doing something stupid that will hurt him at trial. If we're worried about it looking bad we can bring a handful of officers for backup so there will be witnesses we did everything by the book."

“All due respect, Audrey, I know these two better than you do.  My priority is with Nathan. He doesn’t need to go through this.  He’s staying out of it.”

"You're the boss," Audrey held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

Dwight nodded.  “My team, my call. Sorry.  So what do you reckon? Pull him in tomorrow morning?  He’ll be working now and I really don’t want to arrest him in front of all his staff and customers.  He deserves better than that.”

"Agreed, but tonight after the Gull closes.  We don't want him to get wind of this and make a bad call."

“Fair point.  Should be closed by midnight.  That work for you?”

Audrey nodded.  "We can park up the road, wait until everyone's cleared out for the night and Duke's gone upstairs - it'll give him nowhere to run to."

“Yup,” Dwight sighed and leaned back in his chair.  “How did it end up like this?”

"It's got to be the mob.  It can't be a coincidence that this guy didn't pop up until it became clear that we weren't just going for the easy arrest.  Whoever did this, they really want Duke to go down for it, and they really don't want us looking too closely at Scalisi's death."

“Yeah, no such thing as coincidence with stuff like this,” Dwight nodded.  “If we’re done here, can you send Nathan in please? He’s on the overnight shift and I need to come up with some sort of bullshit excuse to send him home again.”

"Yeah, I'll ask him to come in.  Good luck with that," Audrey told him, heading out of his office and going over to Nathan's desk to tell him the chief wanted a word.

“Nathan,” Dwight greeted him briskly.  “I screwed up the rota, you’re not meant to be on shift tonight.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes.  "No you didn't. It's every third Wednesday, like always.  You got a reason for wanting me off?"

Dwight looked back at him, considering his options.  “Yes. Go home.”

"Something went wrong with Duke, didn't it?"

Dwight nodded and stood to close the door.  “What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room.  Understand? Not to _anyone_.”

Nathan nodded, feeling his stomach turn to lead.

“I'm only telling you because I need you to go home and you won't do that without knowing why. A witness has come forward and the DA is pushing for us to charge Duke. At this point, his best bet is to take his chances at trial. We're arresting him tonight. You shouldn't be here when we bring him in. For both your sakes.”

"What the hell, Dwight?" Nathan said angrily.  "That's bullshit and you know it! Whatever 'witness' the DA dug up is lying through his teeth."

“We know that, Nathan, but we can't stall the DA any longer. The evidence is flimsy and it'll be laughed out of court. Better they charge him now.”

"Let me be there, then.  It'll go better if I am, you know it will."

Dwight shook his head. “You don't want to see that and he won't want you to. I'm doing this for his sake as much as yours. We're not going until after closing to protect his privacy as much as possible.”

"And I appreciate that, but please, Dwight.  I wasn't there for him the first time. Let me be there for him now.  He needs someone to support him, someone he trusts."

“Nathan, I can't even let you talk to him, you'll just be standing by and watching. You won't be of any practical or emotional help to him. The last thing he needs is to see you upset. Audrey and I will be the ones to arrest him. He knows us and he trusts us about as much as he trusts anyone and I'll explain it was my decision that you weren't there.”

"I know I can't talk to him, I know I'll barely see him.  It'd be better than nothing. Please."

“No. Audrey was fighting your corner and I said no to her too. Go home. I'll let him know you wanted to be there so he knows you haven't abandoned him, and I'll see if I can arrange some sort of supervised visit for you both in the next couple of days.”

Nathan scowled, but didn't argue.  He knew he'd hit a wall.

“I'll text you later, let you know everything's ok,” Dwight promised. “But for now, get outta here.”

Nathan turned and stalked out of Dwight's office.  On his way home, he had a thought. He pulled into a spot on Main Street and took a circuitous route away from the center of Haven until he found the old payphone outside the abandoned fish-processing plant, long-unused but still functional.  He donned a pair of latex evidence gloves, slipped in some coins and dialed Duke's number.

“Grey Gull, what can I do for you?” Duke answered chirpily.

"Duke, it's me," Nathan said, hushed and hurried.  "I wanted to give you a head's up. It's gonna be okay, I'm gonna be there for you as much as I can."

“Nate? What's going on?” Duke kept his voice quiet, unlikely to be overhead in the noisy bar.

"The DA pulled some bullshit witness out of their ass, claims they saw you and Scalisi arguing on the Rouge the night of the murder.  It's a lie, we all know it's a lie, and the DA's only doing this to scare you into taking a plea deal because they know their case is flimsy as wet tissue paper and won't hold up a hot second in a courtroom.  I wouldn't be surprised if they don't even call this fake witness to the stand during the trial."

Duke’s stomach sank. “Fuck,” he breathed. “So, what? They're gonna charge me?”

"They're gonna have to, Duke.  But we're gonna get you through this.  The DA doesn't have enough for a conviction and they know it.  Hell, they might cut you loose if they can't scare you into a plea deal, rather than lose the case at trial.  You just have to sit tight and stick to your guns and not do anything stupid. You're gonna be okay, Duke. I promise."

“Yeah,” Duke said, barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I've got a good lawyer, it'll be fine.”

"You will.  Even a half-assed lawyer could rip the case apart so hard they jury would laugh it right out of court.  The so-called witness is unreliable as hell, the DNA and prints are meaningless, they have nothing. You'll be okay.  We believe in you, and we'll keep fighting to find out who really did this so we can clear your name once and for all."

Duke took a deep breath, steadied himself, got control of his voice before he spoke again. “Thanks, Nate.”

"You'll be okay, Duke," Nathan said softly.  "It kills me that I can't be there for you but you're in good hands."

“I know,” Duke said just as softly. “I'll be fine. Whatever happens, Nate, don't worry about me.”

"Can't help but worry," Nathan told him, hesitating before adding, "Love you, Duke."

Those words. Words he'd never expected to hear and especially not from Nathan. Especially not now. “Don't, Nate,” Duke said quietly. “I love you too but don't. Not now. Not when everything's going to shit. Tell me again when this is all over.”

"I will," Nathan's voice cracked.  "God, the minute this is over I'm going to wrap you in my arms and never let go."

Duke swallowed hard. His voice was steady when he finally spoke. “No place I'd rather be.”

"Just hang in there, okay?" Nathan said softly.

“I'll try, Nate. You too. Promise me something?”

"Anything," Nathan told him.

"If this goes wrong, if I end up being convicted of this, or whatever...you need to move on. Put it - _me_ \- behind you. Don't visit, don't write, just...get on with your life. Be happy."

"Duke, if you are convicted it will be a gross miscarriage of justice, and I _will_ see justice done.  For you, and for the law I chose to serve.  This isn't the old chief's police force anymore, and I won't stand for persecution of innocent citizens."

Duke let Nathan hear the smile in his voice. “I wouldn't expect anything less, Detective Wuornos. But I meant _you_ \- Nathan - _you_ need to move on. From me. Not from the case, if you don't want to, but from me. Put me behind you, find someone else, find happiness. Whatever that means to you. Promise me, Nate?”

"Duke, don't ask me that.  Please," Nathan said softly.

“Ok,” Duke murmured into the phone. “Ok, I won't ask. But that's what I want you to do. If this all goes to shit, if my life comes crashing down around me, I want to know that you'll be ok.”

"No matter what happens, I'll be okay," Nathan said firmly.  "That I can promise you." Of course, in his own mind, that meant righting the injustice and freeing Duke, but Duke could take it however he chose.

“Ok. Thanks, Nate. For everything. You're a good man, don't ever forget that.”

"You are too, Duke.  Don't you forget that."

“I won't,” Duke said. Now wasn't the time to be arguing that point. “‘Bye, Nate.”

Duke put down the phone, his hands shaking as a deep sense of despair rushed through him. He thought - hoped - he'd hidden it from Nathan well enough to be convincing but he knew that this was it. Decision time. Risk going back to prison, or... 

Prison, rules, routine, locks. He'd lose his freedom for something he hadn't done. Lose his agency for something that wasn't his fault. No air, no ocean. No way out.  
  
Except... Except to leave on his own terms.   
  
There really wasn't a decision to make. Since the moment he saw Tony lying in his kitchen, he’d known it might come down to this. It didn't matter what they said - Dwight, Audrey, his lawyer, even Nathan - there was no way in hell he was getting out of this one.   
  
A plea deal? Twenty years, if he was lucky. Twenty years of being locked up. Twenty years of being out of control of his own fucking life. No. No chance.   
  
Rely on his lawyer? She was good, but was she that good? Was the case as flimsy as Nathan had told him it was? Too many questions, too many possibilities for it to go wrong. With his sheet, the judge would throw the book at him. Life. He'd never see the ocean again.   
  
Yeah, no, there was no decision to make. He called Tracy over, checked she was ok to lock up, and went upstairs. He took a few minutes, scrawled a note, downed a glass of whisky and took off. This was it. His own choice. His own terms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note of reassurance - it's gonna get worse before it gets better. But we do fix it. Promise!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight gets a call that Duke is making a run for it on the Rouge. When they catch up to him, things go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sends preemptive hugs to everyone* A reminder to check the tags for this fic if you haven't already <3<3<3

Dwight slammed the phone down and rushed into Audrey's office. "Got a problem."

"Goddamn it, what did Duke do?" Audrey asked sharply.

“Laverne just took a call. The Rouge is leaving the harbor. Can't be anyone else. He's either stolen the keys or broken in. He's running,” Dwight was already on his phone, calling for reinforcements, to get the Haven PD boat ready to go, putting the Coastguard on standby in case they couldn't catch Duke before he went too far out.

Audrey swore with surprising creativity.  " _Now_ can I get Nathan to come with us?" she asked tartly.

“Call him.” They needed all the help they could get if they were going to stand half a chance of talking Duke down from this _fucking stupid decision_ and Nathan was probably the only person who could persuade him to stay and wait it out.

Audrey rang Nathan's cell as she grabbed her coat and headed down to the parking lot.  The second he picked up, Audrey barked, "It's Parker. Meet us at the docks, Duke's taken the Rouge and made a run for it."

Nathan's swearing was less creative and more loud, but no less heartfelt.  "Be there in five," he snapped back and hung up.

Dwight was already in his truck, revving the engine. As soon as Audrey jumped in, he sped off, tires squealing. “What the fuck is he doing? How does he even know anything’s changed?”

"Did you tell Nathan what was going on?"

“Yeah,” Dwight grunted. “Had to, to get him out of the station. Trusted him not to tell Duke anything.”

"Looks like you trusted wrong," Audrey snorted.

“Clearly.”

Nathan was already waiting by the docked police boat when they got there, meaning he must have doubled the speed limit every foot of the way.

“You told him?” Dwight snapped at Nathan even as he leapt aboard the small police boat.

"Maybe if you'd let me be there to pick him up to keep him from doing exactly this kind of bullshit," Nathan snarled back as he cast off.

“This bullshit wouldn't be happening if…” Dwight cut himself off. “Forget it. Work out what you're gonna say to persuade him to hand himself in. He's fucking this up for himself and you're the only person he might listen to.”

Audrey strategically placed herself between the pair of them. “Gotta catch up to him first.”

"You think I don't know that?" Nathan spat, even as he worked seamlessly with Dwight to help get the boat under way.  "Any of that?"

“Pack it in, both of you,” Audrey snapped. “There'll be time enough to play the blame game later, once Duke is safely in custody. Nathan, where's he headed?”

"Nowhere near here.  He's traveled the world, has contacts everywhere.  He'll head far away, probably to a country with no extradition treaties."

“If he does that, we'll never clear his name,” Dwight growled and gunned the engine of the small boat as hard as he dared.

"No, really?" Nathan spat.  "That _had_ kind of occurred to me."

“So maybe you should've kept your fucking mouth shut,” Dwight snapped back.

"Oh sure, blame me for your ass-backwards decision to forbid the ONE guy who could have prevented this from having anything to do with bringing him in."

“This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't told him!” Dwight roared over the noise of the engine and the waves. “We hadn't even gone to bring him in. I _trusted you_.”

"This would've played out the same if you'd just come to the docks without my saying anything - or worse, you'd have cornered him on board and who the hell knows how far he'd have gone."

“Nathan,” Audrey said calmly. “We weren't coming to the docks. He wasn't supposed to be here. We were going to pick him up at the Gull after closing. There wouldn't have been a problem. Now both of you need to put this to one side so we can concentrate on finding Duke and talking him down.”

Nathan muttered something that was lost to the roar of the engine.

“Point,” Dwight said through gritted teeth as he pushed the engine harder than ever. Duke had close to half an hour on them but the police boat was smaller, faster, more manoeuvrable. They could catch him.

**

Duke stood quietly on the deck of the Rouge, his arms outstretched, his face turned towards the stiff breeze which sent his hair flying every which way.  He centered himself, concentrated on his breathing, the sharp scent of salt in the air was so strong he could almost taste it. The smell of _home_.

Beneath his feet, the deck was steady, rocking gently in the water. The only sound came from the waves gently lapping against the hull, rhythmic, one after the other. Predictable. Relaxing. Soothing. Lulling him into a sense of peace. It was calm and calm was exactly what he needed right now.

The sound of an engine shattered the quiet of the night. This was it.

**

“That's the Rouge!” Dwight shouted as a large, dark, shape appeared on the horizon. He pushed the lever another notch, redlining the engine as he changed course to intercept the larger ship.

Nathan picked up the police bullhorn as soon as they were in earshot.  "Duke! It's Nathan. Please, come home! I won't let anything happen to you, I promise," he pleaded.

There was no answer, no sign of movement at all.  Audrey frowned. “Ship’s not moving, is it?”

Dwight shook his head and directed the searchlight onto the Rouge, keeping a safe distance between them and the larger boat.

“Nathan, you know him best, what’s his game?” Audrey snapped.  “Think he’s stopped running? Just wanted a trip on the ocean before we took him in?  Or is he cornered and desperate and ready to shoot the first person who sets foot on his boat?”

"The latter," Nathan said tensely.  "But if anyone asks, it was the former and he did it with our knowledge, permission, and presence."

Audrey swore.  “Well that rules out pulling up alongside and leaping on board.”

“There he is,” Dwight trained the searchlight on the figure - recognisable now they’d drawn closer.  He killed the engine and let the boat drift.

Aboard the Rouge, Duke nodded to himself.  They’d caught up to him. No time left to think any more.  He pulled the chain securely around his waist, padlocked it, checked the other end was firmly attached to the anchor, and balanced on the side of the Rouge.

"What's he doing?" Nathan asked, a note of panic rising in his voice.

“Duke, no!” Audrey screamed as Dwight fired up the engine again, trying to get them closer.

Nathan lifted up the bullhorn again.  "Duke, please! Please, just come home!  You're gonna be okay, I swear, please don't, we can fix this, we can keep you out of jail, please just come home," he begged.

Time seemed to slow down, to almost _stop_.  As they watched, Duke dropped the anchor over the side and jumped.

" _No!_ " Nathan shrieked, leaping after him without a second thought.  

Dwight caught him around the waist and hauled him back. He fought viciously every inch of the way, lashing out and screaming desperately.

The last thing Duke heard - even over the wind, the waves, the deafening roar of his own heartbeat - was Nathan’s voice.  Shouting - _screaming_ \- his name.  The water closed over his head, cold and dark.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The immediate aftermath

Audrey called for backup immediately - the Coast Guard, police divers - but with every second that went by, the hope of pulling Duke out alive faded.  By the time help arrived it would no longer be a rescue mission but body recovery.

While Audrey was on the radio Nathan threw punch after punch at Dwight, tackling him, furious and no longer caring that he was assaulting the chief of police, his boss.  Finally, exhausted, he fell back and all but collapsed onto the deck of the small police boat, stony and silent. Audrey sat beside him, not even trying to talk. There was nothing she could say.

They stayed until the Coast Guard and divers were on scene.  Dwight tried to persuade Nathan to let them take him home but he insisted on staying.  He owed it to Duke to be there when his body was brought up. But there was little the divers could do - it was dark and the water was deep, beyond the reach of normal diving gear.  Duke had chosen his spot well. They marked the spot, arranged to come back out in the morning with specialist gear, and the Coast Guard secured a line onto the Rouge to tow her back to the dock.

Nathan reluctantly agreed to go home, not saying a word beyond yes or no, not looking at anyone.

“Nathan, I’m sorry,” Dwight said once they were back on dry land.

"Fuck you," Nathan roused himself enough to mutter.

“That’s fair,” Dwight’s expression was just as stony as Nathan’s as guilt raged through him. He was sworn to protect the citizens of Haven and Duke was his _friend_. He'd let him down. Badly. “Anyone I can call for you?”

"No."

“Nathan?” Audrey said quietly.  “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

"I can drive myself," Nathan said, surly.  "Not a child."

“I know you aren’t, but you shouldn’t be driving.  Not after this.”

"I'm fine."

“No, you aren’t.  You’re upset and in shock and there’s no way I’m letting you drive.  Keys,” Audrey held her hand out.

Nathan growled and all but slapped his keys into her palm.

Audrey jumped into the driver’s seat of the Bronco, started the engine, and waited for Nathan to get in.  “Where do you live?”

Nathan muttered his address.

Audrey drove - she knew Haven well enough now to have an idea of where she was going.  She didn’t try to talk to Nathan until she parked on his drive and handed his keys back.  “Ok for me to come in?”

"No," Nathan said shortly.

“Ten minutes, just while I wait for a cab?”  Audrey tried.

Nathan unlocked his door and dropped his keys on the step.  "You can wait in my truck. There's a radio in it, call for a cruiser."

“You really want to be on your own?  I won’t talk to you if you don’t want me to but I’m worried and I care.”

"Kind of you but no thanks."

“Nathan,” Audrey said quietly, following him inside anyway.  “I know there’s nothing I can say, no words that’ll make this better, but I’m sorry.  You shouldn’t have to be going through this at all, let alone on your own. Let me call someone for you?  Please.”

"Who are you gonna call, Parker?  Who do I have? I had Duke, he was all, he was everything to me.  So unless you can raise him from the dead," Nathan voice cracked, tears starting to run down his cheeks, "then just get the hell out."

“No,” Audrey shook her head and steered him towards a chair.  “Sit down and stop arguing. I’m not leaving you on your own. If there’s no one else, you’re stuck with me.”

"Fuck you, Parker, get out," Nathan pulled away and went to the kitchen, grabbing a mostly full bottle of whisky - a present from Duke, and what better way to honor him than drinking it in his memory?

Audrey followed him into the kitchen and rifled through cupboards until she found the glasses.  She pulled out two and sat at the table, opposite Nathan. “You pouring that or just cuddling it?”

"S' all I got left of Duke so what if I am cuddling it," Nathan growled, ignoring the glasses and turning his back, going to the couch instead and taking a swig straight from the bottle.

“Fair point,” Audrey said softly as she followed him and perched on the edge of the couch.  “I’m sorry, Nathan. I know you’re hurting and I wish there was something I could do.”

"Could leave," Nathan grunted, taking another long pull of the whiskey.

“Ok,” she replied quietly.  “You know where to find me. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

Nathan nodded.  He had absolutely no intention of answering his phone or his door.  Or doing anything besides drinking himself to death.

Audrey stood and gave his shoulder a squeeze, watching him flinch at her touch, before she quietly slipped out of the door and walked back to the B&B where she was staying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another note of reassurance - we do fix this! Promise!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight arrives at Nathan's house with news which doesn't go down well

It had been a hell of a morning. A hell of a few days.  As soon as he got word, Dwight raced straight over to Nathan’s house.  He jumped out of his truck and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Nathan, barely conscious and already  _ very _ drunk, didn't bother answering.

“Nathan?”  Dwight called out and knocked harder.

Nathan roused himself enough to yell, "Fuck off!"

Dwight rolled his eyes.  “I need to talk to you. Open the door.”

"No.  Don't care." Nathan slurred.

“You’ll want to hear this and I’m not shouting through the door.  Don’t make me kick it down.”

There were sounds of movement and a few minutes later Nathan opened the door and glared at him.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face drawn, dark circles under his eyes.  “You look like hell,” Dwight said bluntly. “Gonna let me in?”

"No.  Say your piece and go."

“Wasn’t a request,” Dwight replied, as gently as possible.  He wasn’t dealing with one of his police officers, he was looking after a bereaved relative who was also his friend.  “You need to be sitting down.”

"Like anything you could say could possibly hurt me?  There's nothing left, chief. He's dead. There's nothing you or anyone else could say or do that could ever hurt me again."

“I know.  But still, I’d rather not do this on the doorstep.  Can I come in, please?”

Nathan turned and walked inside, leaving the door open behind him.  The bottle of whiskey was almost empty and he needed a new one anyway.

Dwight closed the door and went straight to the kitchen.  He set about making coffee and poured a mug for Nathan. “Mind if we sit?”

"Whatever," Nathan ignored the coffee, draining the last of the bottle and getting a fresh one, even at this hour of the morning.

Dwight frowned but said nothing.  “Divers have been out for two days.  Coast Guard too. There’s no sign of him, Nathan,” Dwight’s voice wavered and he steadied himself.   “No body to bring home.”

"And you felt the need to come down here and rub that in my face?  To tell me I won't even have a cold corpse to say goodbye to?" Nathan's voice cracked.

“You're the closest thing to family that Duke has. Had,” Dwight swore under his breath. “I'm not trying to rub your face in it. As far as I'm concerned, you're his next of kin and I'm keeping you updated. If you need me to lapse into professional police language then I will but you know the score as well as I do.”

"Fine.  You've delivered the news to the so-called next of kin.  Bye."

“Nathan, don't do this. Don't shut out the people who care. Audrey said you gave her hell the night it happened. I understand, we all do, but don't shut us out. We're here for you.”

"Good of you.  Both of you. Doesn't matter though.  Tell Parker I'm sorry."

“Will do. For what it's worth, I'm genuinely sorry. For your loss and for my part in it. It was my fault. Don't think I don't know that."

Nathan barked a bitter, despairing laugh.  "Your fault? Who spooked him into running?  Not you. Who completely failed to reassure him he'd be okay?  Not you. Who failed to protect him from his past? Who was never, ever there for him all this time?"  Nathan's voice broke. "It was me, it was all me."

“Neither of you should ever have been in that position, Nathan, and that's on me,” Dwight said quietly. “So much I got wrong. I failed both of you.”

"Doesn't matter now.  It's over," Nathan said dully.

“Doesn't make me any less sorry. If I could go back…” Dwight took a deep breath. “Useless words. Anything you need? Anything we can do for you?”

Nathan shook his head mutely.

“Ok. You'll call me if you need anything? We'll be releasing the Rouge, the apartment, his Land Rover, in the next couple of days. I'll come back then, give you the keys. He'd want you looking after everything until his will can be executed.”

Nathan shook his head.  "Not fit to. Beattie can keep looking after the Rouge and Tracy can look after the Gull.  He trusts….trusted them."

Dwight nodded. “Ok, but he'd still want you keeping an eye on things. Up to you if you want to ask Beattie and Tracy to carry on but I'm releasing the keys to you and you only.”

"I won't take 'em.  He wouldn't want them rotting here with me."

“Yeah. He would. He trusted you, Nathan, he'd want you to do this for him.”

"Yeah, well he's dead, so I guess we don't really know what he'd want, do we?" Nathan snapped.  "You can give them to someone who gives enough of a shit to look after his things, or you can abandon them on my doorstep to be ignored.  Those are your choices."

“You give a shit. You wouldn't be this upset if didn't.”

Nathan smashed the empty whisky bottle on the kitchen floor.  "I. Cannot. Do. This. Find someone else. Now get out."

“Nathan…” Dwight tried. “You can and you will. For Duke.”

"Duke's dead!" Nathan screamed.  "It doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore!  Get out!"

“Ok,” Dwight knew he was beaten. “Look after yourself, Nathan, he wouldn't want you to be like this.”

"He can tell me that himself, then."

Dwight nodded. Nothing he could say or do would make any difference now. Get back to work, clear Duke's name. He could do that at least. Make sure that was done. Duke deserved that even if Nathan was past caring. He turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him, and took a minute to sit in his truck, collecting himself before he drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still promising that we fix this!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days previously (or how Duke isn't dead)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think we'd really kill Duke off, did you? Here's how (and why) he faked it

**Three days previously...**

Duke worked fast - he had to work fast, otherwise he was going to die for real and while that might not be such a bad thing, it was most definitely not part of The Plan. His heart gave an unpleasant jerk as the key almost slipped through his fingers, but he clung to it for dear life.  He undid the padlock. The heavy weight of the anchor slipped away from him and he struck out, swimming for the surface, staying below the water, feeling his way along the hull of the Rouge. If he surfaced too soon, it was game over. They'd see him.

Blood rushed through his head, pounding now, spots in front of his eyes, desperate for air. Finally, _finally_ , he was on the far side of the Rouge. Out of sight. He surfaced, gasping in the cold, damp, air. Gods, that had been close. Too close.

Nathan's anguished screams still tore through the air and Duke wanted nothing more than to go to him. He couldn't. _I'm sorry, Nathan, so sorry. I'm doing this for you._

If he was right, if it was the Italian crew who were framing him, he wouldn't be safe until it was over - however 'over' came about. And Nathan wouldn't be safe either. They'd happily hurt Nathan just to get to Duke, even if Duke ended up in prison. His only hope was to clear his name and get them in jail instead, and being dead was the best way to do that.  

He fumbled around in the dark, treading water, and cursed under his breath. He hadn't had nearly enough chances to practice this. Had never really expected to have to put this plan into motion.  His fingers closed around the thin rope which was hanging from the side of the Rouge. He pulled, releasing the knot, and the small box came free with the rope. Inside the box were a pair of swimming goggles and a miniature air cylinder with a mouthpiece, containing just enough air (he hoped) to access the small hatch just below the waterline.

The water was dark, too dark to see anything, and Duke ran his fingers along the hull, searching for the bolt.  He pulled it across and swam into the tiny compartment, folding himself up to close the hatch again. Above his head was another hatch.  He reached up, unbolted it and hoisted himself into a hidden storage room inside the ship.

Shivers ran through him and he stripped off his wet clothes, pulled on dry ones.  This part, at least, he was prepared for. A thermos flask full of hot coffee (spiked, of course) was next to a warm blanket and a brown bag with a sandwich inside.  He settled in. This was going to be a long wait and thank the gods that he’d had a couple of hours to prepare. Without Nathan’s phone call, none of this would have been possible and he’d be languishing in a jail cell by now.

**

Duke listened carefully to all the noises.  Boats. A helicopter, even. Someone aboard the Rouge, securing ropes.  Movement as the ship was towed back to the dock. Voices. Then, eventually, silence.

He waited a little longer, as long as he dared.  This room was well hidden but wouldn’t stand up to a full search of the interior of the ship.  He needed to be out of here before that happened.

A full scuba set was in the corner and he pulled it on, wetsuit and all.  He picked up everything that was in the small room - it wouldn’t do for anyone to find any trace that he’d been there.  Back the way he’d come in, emerging into the water. It was light now and he stayed below the surface until he was well away from the harbour.

A few hundred yards up the shore, he emerged from the water, moving furtively towards an abandoned fishing hut.  He hadn’t been here for years. It had been one of the places he camped out, back in the days when he had nowhere else to go.  When he’d come back to Haven, it had still been deserted and he'd stashed a bag there. He hadn’t dared to come back and check it, not after Nathan’s warning.  His only hope was that it hadn’t been disturbed in the years since he left it.

Luck was well and truly on his side.  No one had been in here for years. Cobwebs dangled from every surface and his bag was still well hidden at the back of the hut, under a tarpaulin.  He pulled it out and breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was in there. Clothes. Money. A gun. Fake ID.

He quickly changed, the smart clothes a far cry from his usual casual attire, hopefully enough of a disguise to get him safely away from Haven.  The wallet went into his pocket, the gun tucked into his waistband, behind his back, hidden by the blazer he now wore.

Time on his hands now.  Wait until dark. The sound of Nathan’s screams haunted him.   _What have I done?_  He steeled himself against it.  He had no choice. This was the only option.  He just wished it hadn’t hurt Nathan so deeply, wished he could have told him what he was doing.  Maybe…

No, that was _stupid_ and Duke Crocker was a long way from stupid.  Still…

No.  Just no.

He _couldn’t_ tell Nathan.  It would put them both at risk.  You don’t mess with the Italian mob.  And definitely not De Luca’s crew. But…

But night fell and he still couldn’t shake the memory of Nathan’s screams.  He never would. So he walked. Up the shore line, across the rocks, along the coast road until the small turning into Nathan’s road.  Stealthy and cat-like, he crept into Nathan’s back yard. Just a glimpse. That was all. Just a glimpse.

It was arguably the worst decision he could have made.  Nathan was sitting on the couch, a bottle of whisky clutched in his hand.  As Duke watched, he guzzled it. Nearly a quarter of the bottle down in one.  He was sobbing, incoherent noises coming from him, crying openly as he gesticulated wildly at the empty room.  Duke could make out some words. His name. Sorry. My fault.

_Fuck_.  What had he done?  All he wanted to do was to smash through the door and wrap Nathan up in his arms and apologize and hold him and make everything all right again.  He couldn’t. He had to go.

He turned away, tears streaming down his face. _I'm sorry, Nathan. I'm so sorry. I'll come back to you if I can. I have to get this sorted out, clear my name, keep us both safe. I wish I could have told you what I was doing._

**

Duke walked some more.  Composing himself. Thinking.  Guilt rushed through him, rising like bile at the back of his throat.

The walk helped clear his head.  This was the right thing to do. Maybe not now, but it _would be_.  When he’d cleared his name and he could come _home_.

Whenever that would be.

The truck stop loomed ahead.  Brightly lit and bustling with people.  He stayed outside. Too many people that might recognise him and there was always the possibility that the police would have put out an APB on him.  Unlikely, given the fact his apparent suicide had been witnessed by three cops. Well, two cops and one FBI agent. Same difference.

He waited for a truck leaving in the right direction and hitched a ride.  He didn’t talk to the driver, kept his face hidden as much as possible, not wanting to be remembered if anyone started asking questions.

It was a long drive to Boston and Duke spent most of it pretending to be asleep, in reality counting down the miles.

The truck driver was kind, dropped him less than a mile from where he needed to be, and Duke was walking again.  Walking streets he knew, anonymous in the big city. He found the right building, made his way inside and knocked on the door.

**

"Evi," he greeted her warily.

"Duke," she was just as wary as he was. Two ex-cons eyeing each other up.

"Not any more. Meet Mike Grey, from Cleveland," he flashed her a grin.  Obviously fake. He knew she’d see straight through it. She always had done.

"That's...that's your last resort, 'everything's gone to shit' name," Evi frowned, genuine concern in her eyes, and opened the door wider so he could come in. "What's going on?"

"Oh, you know, fancied a change of pace," Duke replied with a smirk. He couldn't trust Evi, not as far as he could throw her, but he trusted her enough for _this_.

"Bullshit," she called him on it. "You had it good in that little town of yours. Had a bar, last I heard, turned legit. What happened?"

"Tony Scalisi turned up dead on my boat. Frame up job. De Luca's crew at a guess, but they've done it well. Police and FBI can't find anything to exonerate me."

"Not even your little boyfriend?" Evi winked.

"How do you know about Nathan?" Duke asked sharply.

"Word travels, sweetie, and you can bet your ass that if I know, they do too."

Duke swore. He’d suspected that might be the case, but having it confirmed.... Not good.  Not good _at all_.  "Need somewhere to stay. I'm now missing, presumed dead, and I'd like it to stay that way. I need your help, Evi. No bullshit, no funny business."

Evi nodded. "Ok," she passed him a card. "Call this guy. He has a couple of places he rents, doesn't ask questions."

"Thanks," Duke nodded and turned to go. "And Evi? Not a word. To anyone."

She smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey checks on Nathan and brings some paperwork with her - amongst it is Duke's will

Audrey knocked on Nathan's door, filled with trepidation. Last time hadn't gone well, and Dwight had reported back that his last attempt had gone down like a lead balloon too. _God_. She rubbed a hand across her forehead as she waited.

After a few minutes the door swung open to reveal Nathan's back, shuffling back toward the living room.  He'd learned by now that they wouldn't go away if he just ignored the knocking or yelled. He looked - and smelled - all the worse for the intervening days.

Audrey followed him. An improvement, of sorts. At least he was answering the door now, and he hadn't told her to fuck off. “How are you doing?”

Nathan ignored the question as being too idiotic to answer, going back to the couch and his liquor.

“That good, huh?” There was a note of sympathetic humour in Audrey's voice. “Brought you something.” She passed him a bottle of whisky. Probably the last thing he needed but the only thing he'd accept.

Nathan nodded and took it.  He needed more - he'd run out at this rate, and that was unacceptable.

“Coupla things I need to talk to you about,” Audrey said gently. “You up to that?”

Nathan shrugged.

“Ok. Memorial service, Tuesday at three pm in the Gull. You should be there.”

Nathan shrugged again.

Audrey frowned. “I mean it, Nathan. You should be there.”

"Didn't doubt you," Nathan snorted.

Audrey took a deep breath, several bitter responses on the tip of her tongue. “Ok. I also found this in the safe at the Gull,” she passed Nathan an envelope.

Nathan tossed the envelope on the table.

Audrey picked it back up again and kept hold of it this time. “Right, enough,” she said sharply. “That's Duke's will. It can't be executed until either he's found or he's declared legally dead in seven years, but his wishes are expressed clearly enough. You don't want to deal with it, I get that, but _he wanted you to_. If you give a shit about nothing else for the rest of your life, you _will_ give a shit about this. He deserves that from you.”

Nathan gave her a surly, bleary look.

“So. I'm going to make you some coffee and reheat this casserole Laverne made you and you're going to sit and read it. Any arguments?”

Nathan held out his hand for the envelope.  "Keep the casserole, though. Too good to waste."

Audrey passed him the envelope. “When did you last eat?”

"Last night," Nathan lied.

“Bullshit. Let's try again. When did you last eat?”

"Got all the calories I need," Nathan waved the bottle.

“Alcohol isn't food, Nathan,” Audrey said gently. “You need to eat. I'll reheat a small portion, leave the rest in the fridge.”

Nathan shook his head.  "You keep it. Just go to mold like everything else.  Too good for that."

“Then I'll reheat a small portion and take the rest with me, but you have to eat something.”

"Not really."

“Ok,” Audrey said quietly. She went into the kitchen and reheated him a small portion anyway, leaving the rest in fridge. Maybe he'd be hungry later. She took the small bowl back into the living room, along with a mug of coffee.

Nathan ignored the coffee and the bowl, leaving it to join the other untouched dishes she and Dwight had put in front of him, all of them now covered in a fine fur of mold.  He opened the envelope and scanned the contents, blue eyes focusing for a minute. There were pages and pages of legal documents with a short note from Duke at the front.

_Nathan -_

_If you’re reading this, I’m dead.  Or lost at sea, which is a distinct possibility.  In which case, please keep this safe until I’m legally dead._

_Look, there’s a load of legal bullshit here.  It’s all notarized, all above board. See, I can do some stuff properly.  But to save you time going through it all, these are the brief details:_

_The Gull - yours.  Keep Tracy on. She knows what she’s doing.  The apartment’s included. Live there yourself or keep it for anyone who needs it.  People who are down on their luck and need a hand. A bolthole for anyone who needs to get out of their place in a hurry.  Profits over and above business expansion, renovations, etc, to go to Jean._

_The Rouge - also yours.  Beattie’ll look after her for you.  Sell her if you don’t want to keep her.  Proceeds to Jean._

_Land Rover - obviously yours.  Keep her. She’s always been a better truck than your Bronco._

_Personal possessions - keep anything you want, take the decent stuff to goodwill, chuck the rest.  Maybe get an antiques dealer to check over it all first, some of it might be valuable. I promise none of it’s stolen._

_Cash - yours.  Search the Rouge, there’s a few emergency stashes hidden away.  Also, the abandoned fishing hut - remember from when we were kids?  And the old warehouse on the outskirts of town. The attic of the Gull.  Oh, and there’s a false panel in the back of the Land Rover. Should be enough to see you through any rough patches._

_Bank accounts - Jean’s.  I’d like her to save it for college, or a downpayment on a house.  Something sensible. But if she needs it, she should have access to it.  I don’t want her to ever go through what I did._

_Gloria might like a couple of things.  Bill McShaw maybe. I’ll leave that in your capable hands._

_You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted, and I’m putting that trust in you one last time._

_Look after yourself,_

_Duke_

Audrey left him reading and picked up the moldy mugs, the empty liquor bottles. She washed the dishes, took out the trash and opened the curtains, before she went back to Nathan. “Ok?” She asked gently.

"Read."  He set down the papers and went to close the curtains, keeping his face turned away from Audrey.  He didn't want anyone seeing him like this.

“Good. You're clear on what he wanted?”

"Yeah."

Audrey nodded. “Ok. One last thing and I'll get out of your hair.”

Nathan gave her an expectant look.

She passed him a sheet of paper, a short note scrawled in spiky handwriting. “This was in his apartment.”

Nathan flinched, taking it only long enough to flip it upside down on the coffee table.

“Read it, Nathan, don't just ignore it,” Audrey said softly.

"Not now."

“Want me to keep hold of it til you're ready?”

Nathan just shrugged.

“Ok, I'll keep hold of it. Tell me when you're ready to read it.”

Nathan nodded.

Audrey picked it up and put it back in her purse. “You need anything else? Pancakes, if you don't want the casserole?”

Nathan shook his head.  "You're good people, Parker," he said very quietly.  "You and Dwight both. Better'n I deserve."

“We just care, Nathan,” Audrey rubbed his back. “I wish you'd let us.”

"Don't," Nathan shook his head, shifting away.  "Just gonna end bad for you."

“What? Why?” Audrey frowned at him, baffled.

Nathan gestured to himself - unwashed and unshaven, half-starved and sleep deprived, ragingly drunk even at this early hour.  "Not someone to care about."

“Well I think you are and so does Dwight,” Audrey said firmly before adding more gently, “so did Duke and I'll care about you for his sake, if not yours.”

"The Nathan worth caring about is gone.  Doesn't matter anymore."

“How does that saying go? Something about most needing love when you're at your most unlovable?” Audrey squeezed his shoulder. “You _are_ worth caring about and it _does_ matter.”

Nathan shook his head, shifting away from her touch again.

“Nathan,” Audrey let him go. “You matter.”

Nathan didn't bother arguing, just curled up with the new bottle of whisky.

“Ok,” Audrey said quietly. “Want me to leave you in peace?”

Nathan nodded.

“Anything you need before I go? Water? Food?” Audrey tried again.

Nathan shook his head.

“Tuesday, three o’clock, at the Gull. Dwight’ll swing by and pick you up,” Audrey stood up to leave.

Nathan didn't bother arguing - he knew it'd be no use.

Didn't mean he had to let Dwight in when he came, though.

“Nathan,” Audrey called back from the door. “You matter. Remember that.”

There was no reply.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight tries to persuade Nathan to attend Duke's memorial service

After Audrey reported back on her last visit to Nathan, Dwight was fully prepared for a struggle to persuade Nathan to attend the memorial service they'd arranged for Duke. The service wasn't until three that afternoon but it was barely eleven in the morning as he knocked on Nathan's door.

Sound asleep in a drunken stupor, Nathan didn't even stir.

Dwight hesitated, only for a moment. This was too important. Nathan being at the service was more important than his privacy right now, and maybe that wasn't Dwight's decision to make but someone damn well had to. He reached above the doorframe, ran his fingers along until he found Nathan's spare key.

Nathan was fast asleep (or maybe unconscious, if the empty bottle of whisky still clutched in his hand was anything to go by). Dwight gently took the bottle away and set it on the table, then shook Nathan's shoulder. “Nathan,” he said quietly.

Nathan groaned, clinging to unconsciousness.

“Come on, time to wake up,” Dwight nudged him harder this time.

"Fuck off," Nathan mumbled.

“No. You know what today is. Up.”

"Shouldn't be there.  Just a disgrace. Ruin it."

Dwight ignored him and went to the kitchen to make coffee instead. “Drink it. Wake up. Sober up,” he ordered as he set it down beside Nathan.

"Need more'n coffee for that."

“It's strong coffee and I'll make you another one in a minute,” Dwight started clearing up the mess that had accumulated since Audrey's last visit. God knew how much Nathan was drinking but it looked like a bottle of hard liquor every day.

"No point.  Doesn't mean anything.  He's not there to say goodbye to."

“The point is to honour his memory,” Dwight yanked open the curtains and cracked the windows to let some air in.

"If I really wanted to do that, I'd stay the hell away.  Only gonna insult it."

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

"So I can go to some empty ceremony and watch the town that killed him pretend to be sad about it?  How bad you want another murder case on your hands?"

“You know as well as I do that a lot of people in town respected the way Duke turned his life around, me included. Doing this is a way of showing that respect.”

"If Haven really gave a damn about Duke, he wouldn't have felt the need to run.  He wouldn't have been so damn sure he couldn't get a fair shake."

“Maybe you have a point there but that doesn't change the fact that you need to be at this service - clean, shaven, dressed, and reasonably sober.”

"The hell I do."

“Yeah, you do. Up. Now,” Dwight offered Nathan his hand.

"What if I say no?" Nathan scowled.

“Then you'll see a side to me that I don't much like. This is too important to let you skip it.”

"You really don't give a damn about me, huh?"

“Not today, no. Today is for Duke's memory.”

"Which won't be served by my presence."

“And this, what you're doing now, that's serving his memory, is it?”

"No.  But at least I'm only shaming it privately, not at his public memorial."

“Which is why you're going to sober up, get in the shower, shave, get dressed, eat something. Then you're going to come to the memorial and you're going to sit and listen and make polite conversation with people who care about both of you. An hour, Nathan, that's all it’ll be and I'll bring you straight back here after.”

"Can't," Nathan said very softly, almost pleadingly.  "Don't have it in me."

“You do. You can do this,” Dwight said gently. “Me and Audrey will be right there by your side. You don't have to do this alone.”

Nathan mutely shook his head.  "Hearing everyone talk about him, having to talk _to_ people about him….it'll kill me."

“Which is what you're aiming for anyway. So get up and get ready. You'll regret it if you don't go.”

"No, I won't," Nathan shook his head, slumping in defeat.

“You will.  Trust me,” Dwight offered him his hand again but Nathan just stared back at him, something _broken_ in his bloodshot blue eyes. “Come on, up,” Dwight tried to haul him off the couch.

Nathan passively let himself be hauled around.

“That’s it, you’re on your feet, good start,” Dwight encouraged him.  “One foot in front of the other.”

Nathan stayed where he was, unsteady on his feet as a newborn colt.

“Nathan,” Dwight growled.  “Do _not_ make me undress you and throw you in the shower.  Walk.”

"You wouldn't," Nathan muttered.

“Try me.”

Nathan shrugged.

“Fine.  I warned you,” Dwight gave him a none-too-gentle shove to get him to move his feet.

Nathan stumbled forward, unresisting.

Dwight kept shoving him, all the way up the stairs and into the bathroom.  He turned on the shower so it would get warm. “Can you manage by yourself now?”

Nathan glared sullenly.

“Serious question.  If you _can’t_ , then I really will undress you myself and that’ll just be seven hells of awkwardness that neither of us want to deal with.”

"Get out," Nathan glared.

“Good,” Dwight turned and left.

Nathan locked the bathroom door, climbed into the tub fully clothed, and curled up in a ball under the stream of hot water.

Dwight rummaged through Nathan’s closet, sorting out something appropriate for him to wear.  He found a suit, shirt, tie, and quickly buffed a pair of shoes. He knocked on the bathroom door.  “Ok in there?”

"Fine," Nathan lied.

“Clothes are on your bed when you’re ready,” Dwight turned to go.

Nathan held his breath as Dwight's footsteps moved away, hoping he was actually leaving.

Dwight went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.  Maybe pushing Nathan like this wasn’t a good idea, but then leaving him to wallow in alcohol didn’t seem like a great idea either.  He sighed and poured the coffee. A minute later, he was back outside the bathroom door. “Nathan?” He knocked. “Coffee here. You coming out?”

"I'm fine.  Go away."

“I’ll just bring your coffee in,” Dwight turned the door handle and sighed.  “Nathan, open the door.”

"In the shower."

This was… Not a good sign.  “So get out of the shower and unlock the door and then get back in.”

"Don't want to."

“Fine.  I’ll kick it down then.”

Nathan didn't bother replying.

“Last chance,” Dwight put down the mug of coffee and took two steps backwards.

Nathan didn't care.  What did a broken bathroom door matter?

One hefty kick from Dwight and the door flew open.  Nathan was still curled up in the tub, fully clothed, soaking wet.  At least the water was warm. “Nathan,” Dwight said, his voice full of despair.  “Come on, out.”

"Why," Nathan said dully.

Dwight didn’t have a good answer for that, he just reached over and pulled Nathan onto his feet again.  “At least get undressed. You can’t have a shower like that.”

"Don't care."

“Right.  Enough. You’re letting yourself down and you’re letting Duke down.  One day. That’s all I’m asking. You can get through one fucking day and then you can go back to drinking yourself to death.”

Nathan lashed out at the shower wall, slamming his fist into it hard enough to crack the tile and leave blood running down it.  "What don't you all understand? He's dead! Let him down? I already _did!_  I failed him in the most complete and absolute and worst way, I failed him to the point where no can ever, ever fail him again.  He's dead and he's gone, his cold corpse is being eaten by the goddamned sea life and nothing I do now will make any difference to him ever again.  Fuck you and all your letting him down, fuck your honoring his memory, fuck your doing this for him. He's _dead!_ " he screamed.

Dwight silently took hold of Nathan’s hand and pushed it under the water, cleaning the blood off so he could check the injury.  Not too bad. No stitches required, at least. “You’re going to get through this, Nathan.”

"No, I'm not," Nathan muttered.

“You are.  I know you are, because I did, once,” Dwight said quietly.  “And I know these seem like the worst days of your life but it gets easier.  I promise you it gets easier.”

Nathan didn't argue.  If Dwight knew the truth, he wouldn't stop at dragging Nathan to the memorial.  "I'll go. Just leave me alone."

“Ok.  Coffee’s there.  Drink it,” Dwight moved the mug to the side of the sink.  “And maybe try taking your clothes off to shower this time,” the corners of his mouth twitched into something that was almost a smile.

"Yeah.  Fine. Go."

Dwight went back downstairs and started cleaning.  That, at least, was something useful he could do, given the fact he didn’t seem to be any good at the emotional support that Nathan clearly needed.  He kept an ear out for any hint of movement from Nathan, relaxed slightly when he heard the floorboards creak. At least he was doing _something_.

"Dwight," Nathan called downstairs.  "Wanna walk over. Get some fresh air, clear my head.  At the Gull you said, right?"

“Gull.  Three o’clock.  Sure you want to walk?  I don’t mind waiting and driving you over.”

"Yeah, wanna walk.  Like to be alone. Remember him in my own way 'fore I gotta deal with everyone else."

“Ok, if you’re sure…” Dwight said doubtfully.  He wasn’t entirely convinced but at least Nathan was talking about going.  It was progress. Of a sort.

"I'm sure.  Promise I won't try to drive there."

“I’ll see you there, then.  Call if you need anything.”

"Will do.  And Dwight….thanks.  For everything. Sorry I've been an ass."

“You’re hurting.  I get that. See you there,” Dwight picked up his keys and closed the front door behind himself.

Nathan watched Dwight leave from his upstairs window, breathing a sigh of relief.  He hadn't actually expected that to work. Once the chief's truck was down the road and gone, he went downstairs, water still dripping from his clothes and ragged beard.  He had work to do, and probably very little time before either Dwight or Audrey got suspicious about his sudden compliance.

Dwight went home, changed, then drove to the Gull to help with preparations.  Audrey was already there, setting out the food. Dwight took a moment, staring at the large photograph of Duke which stood near the door.   _Sorry I failed you.  You deserved better. You and Nathan both._  He shook his head, clearing it.  Not the time for bitter self recrimination.  “Nathan insisted on walking here, says he’ll be here, won’t be late, wants to clear his head,” he told Audrey.

Audrey looked up and frowned.  "He says he'll come on his own?  You sure he wasn't just trying to get rid of you so he could go back to his drinking?"

“Quite possibly,” Dwight sighed.  “He’s a mess, Audrey. I had to kick the bathroom door in.”

"I'm not surprised, he's been a mess since it happened.  And this, all of this, has got to be hard on him. I mean, look what's going to smack him in the face when he walks in," Audrey gestured to the photo of Duke.  "Maybe we shouldn't have pushed him so hard. People grieve in different ways. I know what he's been doing isn't healthy, but maybe attending the service is asking too much."

“The thought did cross my mind.  It’s just…,” Dwight ran a hand across his face.  “I’ve been here and I know - I _know_ \- he’ll regret it if he doesn’t come.  You’re right, though, maybe I’ve pushed too hard.”

"He probably would, but maybe that's the lesser of two evils," Audrey said.  "The way he's been, I'm honestly not sure that asking him to sit through everyone talking about Duke and having to talk about him with people isn't going to just break him.  He might just need more time and distance before he can confront this loss. Maybe if he's going to such lengths to skip out, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to let him.  We can record the memorial for him to watch later, if and when he's ready."

Dwight nodded.  “You’re right. I’ll text him, tell him I’m sorry, that we’re here if he wants to come but there’s no pressure if he decides not to.”

"Thanks, Dwight,"  Audrey looked relieved.  "I think you're making the right call.  I'll send him a text too, just so he knows we both support him, whatever he needs."

Dwight quickly sent the text and pocketed his phone again.  He wasn’t expecting a reply.

Gloria showed up to help with the setup not long after, looking tired and defeated.  "Well, some good news for Duke, much good it does him now. Bullet trajectory puts the shooter at around five-foot-ten."

“What?”  Dwight said sharply.

Glora nodded.  "Entry and exit wounds plus the location of the bullet embedded in the wall form an angle too steep to have come from a shooter of Duke's height.  At least not unless he was in some weird position."

Dwight sighed.  He’d been doing a lot of that lately.  “Doesn’t exonerate him completely but it casts one hell of a doubt.  No way the DA would have pushed to charge him if he’d known that. Maybe we can at least clear his name, not have this hanging over his memory.”

Gloria nodded.  "Won't do him any good but he still deserves better than to be thought of as a murderer.  We any closer to finding out who actually did it? That'd do a lot more good to his name."

"We have some suspects, we're building the case.  But this kind of thing has never been fast, and unfortunately that's what Duke needed," Audrey sighed.

“We’ll find who did this,” Dwight said.  “If it’s the last thing I do. We should tell Nathan.”

"Will it help?" Audrey asked.  "Or just hurt him more that all this could have been avoided if we'd known this sooner?"

“Both, probably.  He deserves to know,” Dwight said.

"Guess I can't argue that," Audrey agreed.

Dwight’s phone rang and he picked it up.  “Yes?” he barked.

"Chief Hendrickson, it's Sam Mitchell over at the law firm.  I'm sorry to interrupt, but I figured you'd want to know right away.  Nathan was just in here looking like six kinds of roadkill and asking me to notarize a new will.  Might be nothing but I'm frankly worried about him."

Dwight swore under his breath.  “How long ago and which direction did he go in?”  He beckoned Audrey over.

"Drove west down Main Street - in a hurry."

Audrey hurried over at the look at his face, frowning worriedly.

“Thanks, Sam,” Dwight ended the call.  “Nathan’s just had a new will notarized and left in a hurry,” he told Audrey.

Audrey swore, with feeling.  "Where to, any idea?"

“West on Main Street, that’s all Sam knows.  No clue where he might go.”

"I'll check his house, you get your people searching the west side of town."

Dwight nodded, already on his phone making calls.

Audrey leaped in her car and raced to Nathan's house, her stomach clenching ominously.  She got the spare key down and let herself in, checked the house quickly and methodically.  Nathan wasn't there, but he'd left the two wills - Duke's and his own - side by side on the coffee table. A note read simply "Can't do this.  Sorry. Goodbye." Nathan's new will allocated everything he expected to receive from Duke. Audrey swore again, text Dwight the update, let him know she was off to check the Rouge, and asked if there was anywhere else special to Nathan.

Dwight read the text and swore, repeatedly and loudly. He dashed off a quick reply, letting Audrey know he'd check a couple of places while she checked the Rouge. He went to all of the other bars in Haven but no one had seen Nathan.

Gloria had organized the memorial into a search party as well, and as word spread more and more of Haven turned out to search for their much-loved missing detective.  But as the day faded it was increasingly apparently that Nathan was gone, perhaps never to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a note of reassurance that there is a happy ending to this fic, even though it really doesn't look like it at the moment <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter, aka where we Fix Everything. With some angst along the way.

Duke’s night off and he settled into his fourth drink of the evening. So far his plan was not...going to plan.  
  
The guy Evi had pointed him to had rented him a tiny apartment in south Boston. He'd even been helpful in finding Duke (well, ‘Mike Grey’) a job tending bar. The bar was big, popular, a known haunt of the Italian mob that Duke was trying hard to get close to.   
  
It was slow going. They had no interest in a bartender from Ohio. Oh, he knew he could get their attention if he turned back to some of his less than legal activities but he didn't _want_ to do that. To go back to that life. It wasn't who he was anymore and if - _when_ \- he was able to clear his name (which is what this whole fucking thing was about in the first place... admittedly not one of his better plans, infiltrate the Italian mob and drag a confession out of the boss...yeah, this shit only worked in the movies) he wanted to be able to return to Haven, to _Nathan_ , with a clean sheet and nothing else hanging over him.   
  
Yeah, no, his plan was not going to plan because the Italian crew were keeping things locked down impossibly tight and he hadn't even been able to get in with one of the runners. At this point, his best hope was that Evi would let slip who he really was and get their attention that way. Of course, that would almost definitely result in getting him killed and probably tortured along the way so maybe it wasn't really something to hope for at all.   
  
He sighed, drained his drink, and left the bar. The four whiskeys had him at least on the way to being drunk. It was already late and going straight home was probably a Very Good Idea but he really wasn't ready to _stop drinking_ yet. He weighed up his options. Go left, go home - lock the door and try to sleep while he tried to think of anything except Nathan and how much pain he’d left him in. Go right, pick up a bottle from the liquor store on the corner, keep walking, a few more blocks and he could be on the beach, moonlight glinting off the waves, the sand between his toes.   
  
He turned right.   
  
A mistake, possibly, because that route took him past the small hotel that made him think of Nathan. They'd spent a weekend there, back when they first started dating and it was new and exciting and they wanted some time away from the prying eyes in Haven. Good memories but - given his current circumstances - he could do without the reminder of just how badly fucked up his life was.   
  
As he passed it, the quiet of the night was shattered by angry voices. One sounded heart wrenchingly familiar and that had to be some sort of wishful thinking because it _wasn't possible_.  Nathan was in _Haven_.  Nathan was very definitely not in an alley in Boston.  Just wishful thinking because he’d spent so much time longing to hear his voice again.   
  
The voices rose to shouts and then the thud-crack of fists hitting skin. Yells of pain. Great. Fucking great. Duke cast his eyes around, and - no, _of course_ there was no one else to help. He was going to have to break this up on his own and try not to get himself punched in the process.   
  
A metallic clang as trash cans were knocked over and Duke hurried towards the fight.   
  
"Hey," he called out as he turned into the dark alley behind the hotel. "Everything ok here?"

The alley held a small crowd of men - large, tattooed, leather-wearing men shouting encouragement to the giant in their midst, who was repeatedly punching someone.  In spite of the blood and the bruises, it was still clear that Duke's ears hadn't deceived him - the victim really was Nathan Wuornos.

_What the fuck?_ Duke’s heart thudded against his chest as he strode into the middle of the crowd, shouldering his way through the bikers, and put himself between Nathan and his attacker.  “Back. The. Fuck. Off,” he snarled.

Another punch thrown - in Duke’s direction this time, but he easily dodged it and landed one of his own, squarely on the jaw of the larger man.  

Whoever they were, whatever they wanted with Nathan, the gang must’ve decided they were bored with their sadistic little game.  Laughing and jeering as they went, they left and Duke turned to Nathan. He was a mess. Even without the injuries from the fight, he was dishevelled.  Pale skin contrasted with the dark circles under his eyes, blood from his split lip ran down into his unkempt beard. Duke’s breath caught in his chest.   _What have I done?_  He dragged Nathan into a fierce hug.

Nathan laughed brokenly.  "It worked," he rasped, closing his eyes, his arms limp at his sides.

“Nate?  What worked?”  Concern sharpened Duke’s voice and he held Nathan tighter.

"Wanted to be with you again.  Figured the alcohol'd do it, or those guys would.  And here you are. We can be done now. Done with your trouble, done with your past, done with Haven, done with this whole damn world.  Don't care what happens now. Even if there's nothing. Got to see you one more time. Worth everything."

Duke’s heart sank and his stomach turned to lead.  Nathan thought he was dead or dying or hallucinating or _something_ and it sounded very much like that was exactly what he’d been aiming for.  “You’re going to see me a lot more times because I’m never leaving your side again.”

"Okay," Nathan murmured happily, slumping in his arms.  He reeked of alcohol and much worse - it was clear he hadn't showered in days.

“Can you walk?  My place is a couple blocks away.  We’ll get you cleaned up, fresh clothes, because Nate, I’ve gotta tell you - you smell _bad_ ,” Duke smiled.

"We're dead, what does anything matter?"

“We’re not, Nathan, I’m so sorry I ever let you believe that and I promise I’ll explain everything once we’ve got you fixed up.  Where’s your truck?”

Nathan shrugged.  He'd left it...somewhere.  Didn't care. Things like that didn't matter anymore.

“Ok, we’ll find it tomorrow,” Duke leaned back, releasing Nathan but keeping his hands on his shoulders.  “C’mon, we’re walking.”

Nathan let Duke steer him back towards the dingy little apartment, unresisting.  It didn't matter where he was, as long as he was with Duke.

Duke let go of him, just for long enough to unlock the door, usher Nathan inside, and lock it again.  He guided Nathan towards the couch. First up, coffee, water - everything else could wait. He left Nathan sitting on the couch and went into the kitchen.

Nathan looked around, confused.  This certainly didn't look like heaven, but it wasn't nearly bad enough to be hell.  "Did we end up in purgatory? Are we haunting somewhere?" he asked when Duke came back in.

“No, just my apartment.  I mean, I know it’s a shitty place but it’s not _that_ bad,” Duke passed him the mug of coffee.  “Drink, sober up, then I’ll explain.”

Nathan took a sip and made an appreciative noise.  "Good coffee. Guess it could be heaven after all."

“Still just my apartment but - _gods_ \- it’s a million times better with you in it.”

"Yeah, I know how that feels," Nathan smiled at him, and despite the blood and filth and bruises, it still made Duke's breath catch.

Duke smiled back.  “I’ve missed you more than I could ever tell you.”

"Me too," Nathan said softly.  "Everyone kept telling me it'd get better, that you wouldn't want me drinking myself to death.  But I couldn't do it, Duke. Couldn't live with having killed you."

His words were like a knife in Duke’s heart.  “You didn’t. I’m here, I’m fine, and even what you thought I did...it was never your fault.”

Nathan shook his head, bloodshot blue eyes haunted.  "Might's well have locked that chain around your waist myself.  I hadn't called, you'd be safe in a cell right now while we cleared your name."

“I’m safe _here_ ,” Duke ran his thumb across Nathan’s cheek, gently, carefully avoiding his injuries.  “We’re both safe and I don’t know if you can ever forgive me for putting you through this but I’m sorry.  So sorry.”

"It doesn't matter now," Nathan closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.  "We're together again and that's all that matters."

“I should never have let you believe I was dead. I should've trusted you, told you what I was doing.”

"Trust me?" Nathan barked a bitter laugh, short and sharp.  "After I wasn't there for you all that time? After I scared you into running and then cornered you?  I drove you to kill yourself. Why would you ever trust me."

“I didn't kill myself, Nate,” Duke said softly. “I faked it. The whole thing. Being cornered was always part of the plan. I just wish you hadn't been there to see it. That _wasn't_ part of the plan.”

Nathan squinted blearily at him, confused and off balance.

Duke's voice was calm, gentle, as he explained. About having the key to the padlock, about the scuba gear, laying low in the depths of the Rouge for hours. He told Nathan about going to his house, just for one final glimpse of him before he walked away, and about how it had broken his heart. He cupped Nathan's cheek in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

"You….it was all a lie?" Nathan asked in a very small voice.

Duke closed his eyes and nodded.

"You're alive.  You're okay. You're really okay?"

“I'm really ok,” Duke said softly.

Nathan broke into a beaming grin and hugged Duke so tightly it hurt, nuzzling into his shoulder.

Duke hugged him back just as tightly, arms wrapped around him, holding him close. “I've missed you so much. It's so fucking good to see you, Nate.”

"I thought you were dead," Nathan half laughed, half sobbed.  "I thought I'd killed you."

Duke squeezed him even more tightly. “It’s all ok, Nate. You did nothing wrong and I'm fine.”

Suddenly Nathan pushed him away, mood flashing over into fury in an instant.  "You lied to me! You let me think you were _dead!_  Do you have any idea what that did to me?  What it's still doing to Dwight, to Parker, to Gloria?  Can you even imagine the guilt, the pain, the grief we've been living with?  I damn near killed myself over this!"

“I'm sorry,” Duke said quietly. “That's not enough, it'll never be enough. There's nothing I can ever say or do to make it right. I know that.”

"Don't be sorry, you asshole, I can't punch you if you're sorry!" Nathan growled, frustrated.

“I’ll keep being sorry then,” Duke gave him a tentative smile.

"Starting to think I might not let that stop me," Nathan glared.

“Then do it. Use your left hand, don't open up the cut on your right.”

Nathan scowled a moment, then landed a good solid punch to Duke's face - right-handed.

Duke rocked backwards under the force of the hit - Nathan had never been one to pull his punches - and pain exploded in his cheek. He winced and rubbed his hand across his face. That _hurt_. No more than he deserved. He stood, waiting for the next blow to fall.

"What now, Duke?  You're just gonna start a new life down here while I get fired because I ruined my life over this?" Nathan snarled.

“You think I'd hurt you like that just to run away?! This isn't a new life, Nate, this is... undercover, if you like. They won't stop. Not until I'm in prison or dead. So I need to work my way in, get evidence that you and Dwight and Audrey can use to clear my name and then - _then_ \- I can come home.”

Nathan gaped at him, sputtering for a moment before screeching, "Are you _insane?_ "

“That is a distinct possibility, yes.”

"Setting aside the fact that you're trying to get close to the very people who want you _dead_ , do you know anything about admissability of evidence, contamination, the kind of loopholes that would not only get your proof thrown right out the window but ensure the real killer goes scot-free?"

“Despite current appearances, I'm not a complete idiot, Nate,” Duke rubbed his cheek where Nathan had hit him. And yeah, that was _definitely_ going to bruise. “Work my way in, find someone who knows what really happened, convince them to come forwards. It might not be _proof_ but it'd cast pretty strong doubt and maybe if Audrey had a cooperative contact within the organisation, she'd be able to nail them for good.”

"Absolutely not, it's too risky," Nathan shook his head.  "We'll work out something else."

“I'm open to ideas. Ones that don't involve me rotting in jail while you three run around trying to clear my name. For every piece of evidence you find that'd clear me, they'll plant more that points to my guilt. And when they run out of supposed witnesses, they'll bribe the DA, the judge... wouldn't surprise me if they have already. And when that fails, they'll have me killed in prison. Me being ‘dead’ and living right under their fucking noses, is the safest place I could be right now.”

"They're not gonna think you're dead when you show up right under their fucking noses, no matter how good a show you put on!  And then you'll be dead for real and do you even give a damn that that'd break me? You claim you're sorry but you're completely ready to run right out and do it all over again only for real this time!"

“I've been living under their noses for the past two weeks, they have _no idea_ who I am. I serve them their fucking drinks, night after night. As far as they know, I'm Mike Grey - bartender and cocktail artist from Cleveland.”

"Jesus fucking Christ, you are a goddamned suicidal idiot and I ought to deck you another one to knock some sense back in your goddamned head!"

“Me?! You were the one trying to drink yourself to death, and trying to get yourself beaten to death in an alley - what the fuck do you think would've happened if I hadn't been passing? And _I'm_ the suicidal idiot?!”

"I _wanted_ to die!  I was _trying_ to, that was the whole damn point!   _I_ never claimed not to be suicidal!"

Silence from Duke. _Gods_ , the thought of what might have happened if he'd turned left instead of right left him shaking. “I'm sorry,” he said again.

"Then don't do this, Duke, it'll be okay, we can -" Nathan's pleading broke off abruptly.  It was just like that night on the boat, just like it, and he was there again, seeing Duke plummet into the water, his throat ripped apart by screams.  Screams he didn't realize he was echoing now, as he collapsed to the floor shaking.

Duke rushed to him, crouched beside him, his hand on Nathan's shoulder. “Nate, it's fine, everything's fine, just breathe, ok? Just breathe. Focus on my voice and keep breathing.”

Nathan curled up tight, his hand clenching on Duke's shoulder painfully hard.

That's when it hit Duke just how much pain Nathan was in. He'd known - _thought_ he'd known - how much it was going to hurt Nathan but this…? This... _agony_. No. If he'd known… If he'd known, he never would have even considered… Didn't matter. Nathan was the important thing right now. He pulled Nathan close again, wrapped his arms around him, and held tightly, murmured soft, soothing words, hoping his voice would be enough to help Nathan through this.

Nathan gasped for breath, strangled rasps of pain as he clung to Duke like a lifeline, unconscious of the tears spilling down his face, falling apart utterly in Duke's arms.

Tears ran down Duke's face, too. Tears of _guilt_ and _hurt_ and all the emotions he hadn't let himself feel because he'd been too busy trying to _stay alive_. He cried silently, his voice steady as he spoke. “We're both safe, Nathan, it's all fine, we're going to get through this. I'm coming home with you. Nothing else matters. We're going to sober up, get you cleaned up, find your truck, and go home. Together.”

"Don't leave me," Nathan sobbed brokenly.  "Duke, I can't, please, I'll do anything, just please, without you I can't..."

“I'm not,” now there was a hitch in Duke's voice. “I won't. Not ever again.” Fuck his plan, fuck trying to clear his name. The only thing that mattered anymore was _Nathan_ and making sure he'd never hurt like this again.

Nathan buried his face in Duke's shoulder, clinging until he'd cried himself out.

Duke held him while he cried, held him until he was calm again.  “I’m not going anywhere, Nate, not without you. Except jail, probably, but at least you’ll know where I am.”

Nathan lifted a hand to cup Duke's cheek.  If anything he looked even worse now, his face sunken with exhaustion.  "We'll go together," he said tiredly. "Harboring a fugitive gets you thrown in too."

“That’s a worse plan than mine is,” Duke tried a smile.  “And technically you aren’t harboring a fugitive. We’ll get you sorted out and sobered up and then you can arrest me, take me home, keep yourself out of the shit.  Worry about the rest later.”

"My job's lost already.  Haven't done a thing but drink and snap at Dwight and Parker whenever they tried to help.  No one'd hire me. No job means no house soon enough, might as well be jail."

“Dwight’s not gonna sack you under these circumstances.  You know I’m ok now, you don’t need to keep drinking, you can get your life back on track.”

Nathan shook his head hopelessly.  "Doesn't matter. Rather be in jail with you."

“That’s...Nathan, that’s incredibly _sweet_ of you, but you’re the only one I trust to _not drop this_ and to keep working to clear my name.  You can’t do that from a jail cell. And maybe I have no right to ask anything of you after what I’ve done to hurt you, but I’m asking.  Please. Sort yourself out, get back to work. Maybe you can’t do anything yourself but you can keep an eye on things, keep pushing Dwight to carry on investigating.”

"We'll clear you.  Don't worry," Nathan said softly.

Duke nodded.  “You can’t from a jail cell, though, so can we drop that idea?”

Nathan nodded.  He wasn't as optimistic about his chances as Duke was, but the last thing he wanted was a fight.

“Good,” Duke smiled softly.  “Shower first or food first?”

"Shower.  Not hungry."

“Ok, but you’re eating before we leave in the morning.  ‘k?”

"Okay," Nathan agreed.

It was a start anyway.  Duke stood and stretched, offered his hand to Nathan to help him off the floor.

Nathan let Duke help him up, pulling him into one more hug.  This still didn't feel real.

Duke closed his arms around him, holding him close.  “I fucked up so badly. I’m sorry, Nathan.”

"Still pretty mad," Nathan admitted, hugging a little tighter.  "But mostly just glad you're alive."

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

"Don't.  That'd mess things up."  Nathan sighed and pulled away.  "Gonna get that shower."

“What?  What would it mess up?”  Duke kept hold of Nathan’s arm.

"Don't want to spend the rest of our lives with you feeling like you owe me something.  No way to have a relationship."

“Ok,” Duke said quietly, a tiny hint of a smile on his lips.  “You still want a relationship.”

"Like I'd want to be anywhere but your side after all this," Nathan snorted.  "You won't be able to get rid of me. Get sick of me in a week."

“I promise you, that’ll _never_ happen.”  The thought of jail was still clouding Duke’s mind but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t pretend for one fucking night that everything was ok.

"Tell me again in a week," Nathan snorted.  

“I’ll tell you every day,” Duke smiled.

Nathan leaned in for a soft, gentle kiss.

Duke kissed him back, tenderly, full of _sorry_ and _forgive me_ and _I love you_.

Nathan couldn't help a soft sound of disappointment as he reluctantly pulled away.  He needed a shower before they could keep kissing. And - more importantly - a toothbrush.

“Bathroom’s through here,” Duke took Nathan’s hand.  “The light doesn’t work so you’ll need to leave the door ajar,” he added apologetically.  “Shitty apartment but the landlord doesn’t ask questions.”

"It's fine.  If there's water and soap, that's the important thing.  The rest can wait. You got spare clothes I can borrow? Think I'm gonna have to burn these."

“Yeah, no, they _definitely_ need burning,” Duke smiled.  “I’ll sort you out something to wear.”

"Thanks," Nathan headed for the bathroom, stripping off his clothes.  He took his phone, gun, badge and wallet from his belt and set them on the tiny counter beside the sink, tossed the clothing in the trash, and turned the shower on.  There was no hot water but there was soap, and that was good enough for Nathan. He scrubbed himself clean and got back out, reaching for the small, rough towel.

While Nathan was in the shower, Duke dug out a pair of pants, a shirt, and socks, and placed them by the bathroom door in a neat pile.  He didn’t have much hope they’d actually _fit_ Nathan, with the amount of weight he’d lost.  Once again, guilt rushed through him. “Nate?” he called softly through the gap in the door.  “I don’t have a spare toothbrush, use mine for now.”

A harsh knock at the door sent his heartbeat racing.  No one knew where he lived, he’d been careful about that.  Anyone knocking on his door, _especially_ at this time of night...it couldn’t be good.  He picked up his gun, and cracked open the door, bracing it against his foot so it couldn’t be pushed open.

The man on the other side was instantly recognisable, though they’d never spoken.  “Help you?” Duke asked.

The man gave an ugly smile, and suddenly the door was smashed open by a hulking brute of a bodyguard, knocking Duke to the floor.  The brute picked up Duke's gun where it'd been knocked out of his hand, and trained it on Duke.

In the bathroom, Nathan silently turned his phone's camera on, and trained his gun on the intruders.

"You can help me very much," Stefano DeLuca told him, strolling in as if he owned the place.  Which in fact he did, through various proxies. "Imagine my surprise when a little problem I thought I'd fixed turned up right in my very own bar, calling himself Mike Grey.  You must think I'm real stupid, huh? Funny, you wouldn't be the first guy to think I'm stupid. Tony Scalisi thought that too, thought he could do a little subcontracting without my permission.  I was gonna let you off with a life sentence for his murder - a kind of thank you for unwittingly taking the rap for me, see - but since you've offered yourself up on a platter, well. Convenient how your body's supposed to be lost at sea."

Ignoring the gun trained on him, Duke scrambled to his feet, breathing hard, his heart still racing.  “So that’s why,” he said quietly. “Knew you had something to do with it, just couldn’t figure out why you’d do it.  Gotta tell you, man, I had no idea you didn’t know Tony was subcontracting the work out to me. I did a good job, never lost anything, never late, never opened a crate.  If stuff went missing, it was him who screwed you, not me.”

"That might even be true.  But if I let every guy live who insisted he didn't deserve to die, where'd I be, huh?  Makes me look weak, see? People do me wrong, knowing or not, they don't get to live. Shame, you might really have been as good as you claim.  Guess we'll never know. Silvio, you care to do the honors?"

The safety clicked off.

Two shots rang out.

The heavy sound of dead flesh hitting the floor.

Shaking, disorientated, Duke stared at the two bodies on the ground.  He took a wobbly step backwards and turned his head towards the bathroom.

Nathan lowered his gun, carefully keeping the hot metal away from his bare skin.  He set it on the back of the toilet and picked up his phone, calling 911. As he gave his name and badge number and a brisk report of what had happened, he went over to Duke and put an arm around him.

Duke leaned into the contact, taking a minute, because that had been a close call.  When those shots had rung out, he'd thought he was done for, thought it was all over and Nathan would have to see him die.  For real this time. “You should get dressed,” he mumbled when Nathan had ended the call.

"Yeah," Nathan hugged him tight.  "You okay?"

“Fine.  I’m not hurt,” Duke swallowed hard. “You saved my life.”

Nathan kissed his forehead.  "Wasn't about to let you die."

“If you hadn’t been here…” Duke let the thought trail off.

Nathan hugged him tighter.  "You probably would have found a way to talk yourself out of it.  But it doesn't matter. You're okay. And I had my phone record the whole thing.  We can go home now."

“You recorded it?  There’s proof I didn’t kill Scalisi?  It’s over?”

"It's over.  Already sent it to Dwight and Parker."

Duke let out a shaky breath, a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.  “Thank you, Nathan… Just… Thank you.”

Nathan leaned down and kissed him softly, regretfully brief as he pulled away.  "Sorry, they'll be here any second and I need to get clothes on."

“Clothes might be a good idea,” Duke smiled as relief flooded through him.  It was over. The whole damn mess was over.

"Yeah," Nathan leaned in for one more quick kiss and hug before pulling away to get dressed.

Duke sank bonelessly onto the couch.  He couldn’t take his eyes off the bodies on the floor.  He’d seen enough dead bodies to last him a lifetime. Sirens sounded outside, blue and red flashing lights lit up the dingy room, and Duke tensed.  Cops. He could only hope that Nathan’s video was enough to keep them _both_ out of jail, that it would be ruled a good shooting and Nathan wouldn’t lose his job or worse.

Nathan met the police at the door, explaining and reporting.  Fortunately time and adrenaline had cleared the alcohol from his system and he was now as close to sober as he had been for weeks.  The room was swarmed by crime scene personnel, and Duke and Nathan were escorted down to police cars to head for the nearest station to give their statements.  It felt like forever, sitting in the noisy bullpen telling the officers everything, but only a couple hours had gone by when Audrey swept through the doors, rushing across the room to meet them with Dwight not far behind her.

Duke hung back as Nathan moved swiftly to greet them both. He had a _hell_ of a lot of apologizing to do. He'd be lucky if Dwight didn't arrest him for wasting police time with his faked death stunt.

Audrey turned to Duke after hugging Nathan fiercely.  "You. Once we get back, you are getting a hug and also a smack."

“That...is completely fair,” Duke couldn't help but smile. “An earful as well, I'm guessing?”

"More than just one earful, buster, I am going to be filling your ears the entire time we drive back," Audrey warned.

"Speaking of which, how'd you get down here so fast?" Nathan asked.  "No way you drove Haven to Boston in just a couple hours, you'd need a jet engine on your truck."

"Took a puddlejumper from the Derry airfield into Logan, figured we could take Nathan's truck back."

Duke groaned. “Does that mean I'm gonna be stuck in a car with Sasquatch for four hours?!”

Dwight raised an eyebrow. “Yup. Hell of a stunt you pulled. I don't know if I should be pissed off or impressed.”

“Yeah, that's fair. I owe you both about a million apologies.”

“Mostly just glad you're alive. There'll be time to be pissed off with you later. You might want to stay away from Gloria for a few days, though. She was spitting feathers when I called her.”

Duke nodded, feeling very small. All this time he'd thought no one cared, no one would give a shit if he lived or died. He'd been wrong. So wrong.

Dwight nodded back and pulled Nathan into a rare hug, just briefly, clapping him on the back so hard that Nathan winced. "Glad you're ok, man. Had us all worried."

"Sorry, Dwight," Nathan said quietly.  "Was a damn shitty thing to do."

"I don't know if it makes it better or worse that you actually meant it, unlike Duke," Audrey mused.

Dwight shook his head. “I'm sorry too. For pushing you, not understanding what you needed. Should've just been your friend, left my personal stuff out of it.”

"S'fine.  Would’ve done it anyhow, even if you hadn't pushed, even if I'd stayed home."

“Maybe, but still. I'm sorry I didn't realize how bad it was for you.”

Duke cleared his throat, interrupting (and saving Nathan from a conversation he strongly suspected Nathan didn't want to be having). “I’m sorry, maybe now isn't the time to ask, but we're in a police station and you all know how much I hate police stations and I'd really like to get out of here very, _very_ , soon. Is Nathan in the clear for what happened tonight? And am I in the clear for Scalisi? Or are you here to arrest me?”

"I forwarded the video to the DA and he's agreed to drop the charges against you, Duke. I also set Haven PD releasing your property from custody.  Parker mentioned reimbursement for your losses while you were a suspect, and I think that's reasonable. Nathan will take more time to clear, there'll be a whole investigation, but he'll be suspended until then, he's not under arrest.  I talked to the captain of the precinct, she says she's got everything she needs, and if there's anything else they know where to find us," Dwight explained.

Audrey smiled.  "Let's get you guys home."

Duke grinned. _Home_. “Uh, Nate? I don't s’pose you've remembered where you left your truck?”

Nathan looked sheepish.  Audrey rolled her eyes. "It was in impound.  We got it out."

“Try not to lose it again?” Dwight suggested, unable to suppress a smile.

Nathan opted not to point out that he'd hardly cared what became of it when he left it.  "Road trip, then?"

Audrey looked at him.  "When was the last time you ate?  Solid food, I mean?"

Nathan looked even more embarrassed.

“There's a good diner a few blocks away, get some breakfast, if that works for everyone,” Duke suggested. “Then road trip home and Nathan is _not_ allowed to choose the music.”

"Breakfast sounds great," Nathan's mouth watered.

"Awesome," Audrey agreed.  "Sometime I gotta show you guys around Boston properly.  There's this tiny little Chinese place just off Harvard Square, menu's in Chinese with English as an afterthought, I'm usually the only white person in there.  Amazing food."

“I love that place,” Duke grinned. “Best Chinese food I've had since I was in China.”

Dwight pulled Nathan off to the side. “You need me to drive? You must be tired.”

Nathan gave him a mortified but grateful look.  He knew what Dwight was really asking. "Yeah, thanks.  I'm probably sober by now but…I actually am really tired.  Haven't really slept properly since."

“Yeah, and I bet Duke hasn't either,” Dwight nodded.

“Duke hasn't what?” Duke's ears perked up at the sound of his name.

“Slept.”

“Uh, yeah, sleep hasn't really been a thing since I found Scalisi’s body. Looking forward to getting home.”

Dwight nodded. “We all ready, then? Audrey, you're coming back with us? Or is it easier for you to stay here and I'll send your stuff down?”

"Got some things I want to wrap up in Haven, I'll come with," Audrey said.  She'd come to quite enjoy the picturesque little town.

“Can we get out of here then? Because I am _literally_ surrounded by cops and I'm freaking out,” Duke complained.

Nathan nodded and headed for the door.  He wanted nothing more than to put his arms around Duke, but he couldn't do that here.

Duke followed him, sticking close by him. He'd meant what he'd said earlier about not leaving his side. Audrey and Dwight were only a couple of footsteps behind.

The old Bronco was pulled up out front.  Dwight already had the keys and unlocked it for them; Nathan climbed into the back seat and gestured for Duke to follow him.

Duke jumped in and pulled the door closed behind him. “Ok?” He asked quietly.

Nathan promptly leaned over and wrapped himself around Duke.

Duke held him tightly, buried his face in Nathan's neck, his mind still racing, adjusting to the fact it was all over.

Dwight and Audrey moved down the street, giving them a few minutes. “However the hell they found each other down here, I'm glad they did,” Dwight said quietly.

"Looks like it was the saving of both of them," Audrey agreed.  "I don't know what the hell Nathan got up to or why he came here to do it, but from those bruises it looks like he really didn't want to survive it.  And if he hadn't been there when DeLuca found Duke..."

“Must've been a hell of a coincidence that they came across each other. Don't want to think about what might've happened.”

Inside the truck, Duke squeezed Nathan tighter before he released him. “Honest answer, when _did_ you last eat or sleep?”

Nathan bit his lip, then thought better of it since his lip was split and swollen.  "I honestly don't remember…"

Duke cupped Nathan's cheek gently in his hand. “Then let's get some food, you can sleep on the way back, get a couple of hours in before we get home.”

"Sounds great, honestly.  Curl up with you under that blanket I keep back here."

“Ready to go?” Dwight checked as he jumped into the driver's seat, closely followed by Audrey clambering into the passenger side.

"Hell yes," Nathan said.

“What he said,” Duke grinned. “Diner's a couple blocks over, head towards the interstate, can't miss it.” He leaned back and closed his eyes.

Dwight nodded and started the engine. Time to get these two home where he could do his job and keep an eye on them and make sure neither of them did anything _stupid_ again.

Nathan leaned against Duke tiredly.  "Hey, uh," he said quietly. "I was really shitty to you two when you were just trying to help me," he told Audrey and Dwight.  "You deserved a lot better. Sorry for that."

“No need,” Dwight glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Nathan's eye. “You were hurting, nothing to apologize for.”

"He's right," Audrey agreed.  "Yeah, you were a bear, but you were also traumatized.  Which, if you haven't already thought about getting into treatment for PTSD, you're going to want to."

"I'm fine," Nathan protested.

Dwight shook his head. “You're not fine and once things are sorted with this shooting, you're getting a psych eval before you come back to work,”- Nathan made a noise of protest - “Non-negotiable. Keep arguing and I'll make it six months of mandatory therapy.”

Nathan made a noise that was dangerously close to a whine.

"Come on, Nathan," Audrey said - not unkindly - as Dwight pulled into the diner's parking lot.  "A psych eval is standard procedure for police officers after a lethal-force shooting, you know that.  If you were with the Bureau, the therapy would be automatically mandatory."

“Therapy would be a good idea, Nate,” Duke said quietly as Dwight and Audrey got out of the truck. “I was there earlier, when you thought you were dead, and when you had what I can only presume was a flashback that set off a panic attack. And I'm sorry, I know it's all my fault and if therapy can help you put it behind you so we can both move on, I'll do everything I can to get you there.”

"You thought you were dead?" Audrey frowned worriedly.

"I was drunk as hell and had just gotten the shit beat out of me.  So yeah, when I saw Duke my first thought was, I'd died and joined him.  I'm fine now," Nathan grumbled.

“Yeah, doesn't change the panic attack though,” Duke dug his heels in because that had almost been worse than Nathan believing he was dead - at least he could put that down to alcohol and shock from the fight. The panic attack, not so much. That was pure flashback and Nathan was _definitely_ going to need some help to process that.

Nathan was silent.  He couldn't really argue that, not when the mere thought of anything that had happened that day - even the smallest little detail - sent his heart racing and his lungs locking up.

Duke grabbed Nathan's arm, holding him back while Dwight and Audrey strode ahead. “Hey,” he said softly. “I will if you will? I've been having nightmares about finding Tony, among other stuff, and I think tonight is going to stick with me for a long time too. Maybe I could use some help processing all this, so, yeah. I'll do therapy if you will.”

Nathan gave a smile smile and squeezed Duke's shoulder.  He wouldn't have expected Duke to ever agree to therapy, and it would be well worth going through it himself if Duke got the help he needed.  "Deal."

“Good. Let's get breakfast.”

"Hell yes," Nathan said heartily.

“Lemme guess, pancakes?”

"A damn big stack.  With bacon and sausage and ham and eggs…"

“And about a gallon of coffee,” Duke laughed as they walked through the door.

“Already got the coffee,” Dwight said, waving his hand at the four mugs of steaming hot coffee that were already on the table.

"Oh my god that smells amazing," Nathan said, sliding into the seat and reaching for the mug despite the clearly scalding temperature.

Duke knocked his hand away. “Idiot,” he said affectionately. “Wait 'till it cools down.”

Nathan grumbled, but leaned against him.

“Ready to order food?” Dwight asked.

"One of everything on the menu sounds good," Nathan said, deadpan.

“That all on one plate or were you planning to share?” Dwight was equally deadpan.

"Nah, was gonna keep it all to myself," Nathan told him.

Audrey rolled her eyes but secretly she was very glad to see the return of Nathan's straight-faced humor.

Dwight chuckled. “Ok, so that's one of everything for Nathan. Audrey? Duke?”

"I'm good," Audrey nodded.

“Waffles,” Duke said. “Thanks Dwight.”

Dwight nodded. “Sure you don't want anything, Audrey?”

"I meant I'd decided," Audrey told him, amused.  "I can order for myself, I'm a big girl."

Dwight lifted an eyebrow. “Didn't mean you couldn't, but I was gonna order at the counter. It's faster, get these two home and out of my hair quicker.” He couldn't quite suppress a smirk.

"Fair enough," Audrey said.  "Special number three."

"I'll get the lumberjack breakfast," Nathan added.

Dwight nodded and stood to go to the counter.

The diner was quiet at this early hour of the morning and their food didn't take long to arrive.

Duke dug into his waffles straight away, only pausing to take sips of coffee to keep him awake now the adrenaline had worn off.

Nathan attacked his food, unsurprising for a man who'd been on a straight liquor diet for as long as he had.

"Slow down, Nathan, you'll make yourself sick," Audrey warned.

"Gonna be sick anyhow," Nathan mumbled, his mouth full.

“Yeah, not a good idea, Nate,” Duke added. “Better you eat slowly and actually keep it down.”

Nathan paused long enough to swallow.  "This is my first solid food in weeks. It's going to make me sick as hell no matter how slowly I eat.  So I might's well enjoy it."

“Fine,” Duke rolled his eyes. “Don't say we didn't warn you though.”

"Warning noted," Nathan turned back to his food.

They all ate in silence after that, enjoying the food and sipping at their coffees.

“I'll settle up,” Dwight announced when they'd finished.

Duke shook his head. “It's on me, least I can do after everything. And yes, I did earn this money legitimately, in case anyone was wondering.”

"Didn't doubt it," Nathan put an arm around him.  

Duke gave him a tiny smile and leaned into the contact for a moment before he stood and went to pay. “All done,” he said when he came back.

Dwight nodded his thanks. “We about ready to go?”

"Let's go home," Nathan nodded.  He did in fact look a little green around the gills, as predicted.

“You need a minute?” Dwight checked.

"I'll be fine.  Just need to sleep."

“Come on, let's get you home,” Duke smiled.

Nathan nodded.  Once they got to the car he curled up in the back corner, huddling under the blanket.  He was suddenly glad he kept a bucket in the back for picking up any late-night drunks wandering home after last call.

“Shout if you need me to pull over,” Dwight said as he started the engine and pulled away, heading for the interstate.

Duke sat close to Nathan, wanting nothing more than to curl up with him but keeping enough distance so that Nathan had his space.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed.  He looked over at Duke and put out an arm hopefully, wanting to be close but knowing Duke might not want to.

“Mind sharing that blanket?” Duke asked quietly.

Nathan smiled in relief and pulled Duke close, wrapping his arm and the blanket around him.

Duke leaned against him gently, rested his head on Nathan's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Nathan wrapped his arms around Duke and closed his eyes, settling in for the long drive home.  The food was sitting like rock in his stomach, his head was pounding, and overall he felt like five miles of bad road, but the warmth of Duke against him and the steady movement of the car down the highway actually helped.  Slowly, he drifted to sleep.

Duke dozed against him, not quite asleep but nowhere near awake either. He barely stirred until Audrey's voice called his name and he opened his eyes to find they were back in Haven. He gently nudged Nathan awake.

"Mmgh?" Nathan blinked heavily, barely awake.

“Where am I taking you?” Dwight asked.

"Home, please," Nathan mumbled, hugging Duke like a teddy bear.

Dwight made a left and, after a couple of minutes, pulled into Nathan's drive. “Fixed your door, cleaned up a bit and Laverne popped by first thing this morning with some groceries. You're all set for a couple days.”

"I don't deserve you guys," Nathan mumbled, grateful and ashamed.  "Tell Laverne I'll pay her back soon's I feel human again."

“Will do. Sure she'll be glad to see you back at work, soon’s this shooting incident is cleared up.”

Nathan blinked.  "You want me back?  After all this?"

“Speaking as your chief, what you did while you were on compassionate leave is entirely your own business. Nothing to do with the department. Soon’s you're cleared, soon's you feel up to it, your job’s waiting for you.”

"No one knows," Audrey added.  "Up until you went missing, as far as anyone other than Dwight and I know, you stayed at home grieving in perfectly healthy, socially acceptable ways."

"I _really_ don't deserve you guys," Nathan said with heartfelt gratitude.  "Specially after how I treated you."

“It's forgotten. Just glad to have you back,” Dwight's voice was suspiciously gruff and he cleared his throat. “Duke, you need a ride somewhere?”

“The Gull, I guess. Unless…” He glanced in Nathan's direction.

Nathan's face had fallen.  "You don't want to stay?" he asked softly.

“No, I _do_ want to, I just...wasn't sure if you'd want me to.”

Nathan hugged him fiercely tight.

Duke returned the hug just as tightly.

“Keys are on the hood,” Dwight said quietly. He nodded in Audrey's direction and pulled out his phone to call for a ride back to the station. “I'll check in with you guys in a couple days.”

"Don't have to wait for a ride, can keep the keys for now," Nathan offered.  "Take the truck, give Parker a ride back to the B&B, get back to the station. Drop it off later, whenever.  Spare house key'll get me inside, don't much plan to be going anywhere next few days."

“That'd be good, long as you don't mind.”

"Least I can do, after all you've done for me."

Dwight nodded his thanks. “Be back tomorrow, give you a day to catch up on some sleep.”

"Thanks, Dwight.  For everything," Nathan said quietly.  "And sorry for everything, too."

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Dwight said firmly. “It's just good to have you back. And you, Duke.”

“Good to be back. I'm sorry for everything, too, everything I put you and Audrey through. Thank you for coming to get us tonight. I know you did it for Nathan rather than me but still. Thank you. And sorry,” Duke said.

"We forgive you," Audrey smiled.  "We're glad to have you back, and yeah, we did do it for you too."

“Thanks, Audrey,” Duke smiled. “And for not smacking me like you promised earlier.”

Audrey snorted and gave him a smack on the back of the head.  "Thanks for reminding me."

“Ow,” Duke protested, rubbing the back of his head. “Should've kept quiet.”

"Probably," Audrey grinned at him.  "Go on, go inside and get some sleep, you two."

Dwight nodded his agreement and jumped back into the Bronco. “I'll drop your keys off tomorrow, Nathan. Look after each other.”

“We will,” Duke promised, throwing his arm around Nathan's waist.

Nathan nodded, and hugged Duke close as they headed inside.  Dwight had done a good job - no one would have ever known about the weeks-long bender Nathan had been on.  The little house was perfectly clean and smelled fresh.

“Is it really all over, Nate?” Duke asked quietly, once Nathan had closed the door behind them.

"For you, yeah.  Charges against you have been dropped.  There's proof DeLuca killed Scalisi."

Duke nodded. “I'm guessing the video shows me with a gun pointed at my head, pretty clear you had no choice but to shoot them.”

"Rules governing lethal force are more complicated than that, but don't worry about it.  Expected to be off the force anyhow. If I get cleared to go back to work, it's a bonus."

“It'll be fine, Nate, it'll all be ok,” Duke wrapped Nathan up in his arms and squeezed him tightly.

Nathan hugged him tightly.  "How about we both go to bed and stay there for a week?"

Duke buried his face into Nathan's neck and nodded. “Yeah.”

Nathan led Duke upstairs to his bedroom, kicked off his shoes and pulled off the shirt and jeans Duke had lent him, walking naked to the dresser for underwear.

He was covered in bruises, patches of purple fading to blue and into green, covering his prominent ribs. Duke winced and turned away, biting the inside of his cheek, willing the tears not to fall. He threw off his own clothes and fell into bed, pulled the covers over himself. “I'm sorry, Nathan,” he said quietly.

Nathan climbed into bed and pulled Duke close.  "Just glad you're okay."

“Just... I need you to know that it was never about me running, starting a new life. I really thought it was my only option. They'd never have stopped and I was terrified they might come after you. I really thought what I did was for the best and if...if I'd known how much...what it would do to you, I never would have,” Duke couldn't contain the tears any more and a small sob escaped from him.

Nathan hugged him tight.  "It's okay, Duke. I'm okay, you're okay, it's all over now.  It all worked out in the end."

Duke nodded and tried to relax into Nathan's contact. He didn't have the energy left to argue that it _wasn't_ , it wasn't ok, it wasn't over, because now it was _Nathan_ in the shit instead of him and now he was going to fuck up Nathan's life just as much as he'd fucked up his own.  “Yeah, it's all ok,” he said shakily.

Nathan gently kissed Duke's forehead.  "It is. You're all set, and Dwight and Audrey won't let me go down."

“I don't know how you can ever forgive me, Nate. Everything I've done, how much I hurt you.”

"You're okay.  That's all that matters now," Nathan kissed him softly.

Duke kissed him back, trying to put his emotions to one side. Right now, Nathan needed him and there was no way he was going to fail him.

Nathan reached up and stroked his cheek.  "It's okay, Duke. I forgive you. You're okay.  We're gonna be all right."

Duke closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We're going to sleep as long as we want to and then I'm going to bring you breakfast in bed and you're going to rest and let me look after you.”

"You don't have to do all that," Nathan protested.  "I'm okay, really."

“I want to. Let me take care of you for one day. Please.”

"Okay," Nathan kissed him again.  "Anything for you."

“Shut up, that's supposed to be my line,” Duke smiled.

"Can be both our lines," Nathan said, and stole another kiss.

“Deal,” Duke smiled against Nathan's lips and snuggled more tightly against him.

"Now can I say I love you?" Nathan asked softly.

Duke nodded. “Only if I can tell you that I love you too.”

"Always," Nathan murmured, brushing his thumb over Duke's cheekbone.

“I've missed you so much,” Duke said softly. “I know that means nothing compared to what you were going through, but it was like a piece of me was missing.”

Nathan kissed him gently.  "You never need to miss me again.  Not going anywhere, not after this."

“I'm not either,” Duke hugged him fiercely, heedless of his bruises. “Guess I'm gonna have to face the rest of the town pretty soon,” he said ruefully.

"We'll face them together," Nathan promised, yawning.  The few fitful hours of sleep in the car hadn't been nearly enough.  He was feeling better now - not fully recovered, but the nausea and headache had eased, at least.

Duke murmured - an agreement, maybe a thanks - and kissed him on the forehead. “Get some sleep, Nate, you need it.”

"You'll stay?" Nathan murmured sleepily.

“Right here,” Duke promised.

"Good," Nathan yawned again, settling into sleep.

Duke held him, gently but tightly, so that Nathan could feel him even in sleep. He stayed awake a while longer, too many thoughts, too many emotions, rushing through his mind. He tried to close them off, to meditate and centre himself. He matched his breathing to Nathan's, slow, steady, rhythmic and - eventually, lulled by the regular thud of Nathan's heartbeat, the warmth of him in his arms - he dozed off.

*

Nathan had agreed to let Duke take care of him the next day to indulge Duke, but as soon as he woke up it became apparent he really did need care.  After the fight he'd been too drunk or too hungover to feel much pain from it, but now that the last of the alcohol had left his system, he was feeling every last bruise and ache and strain.  What's more, the sudden absence of alcohol after his long bender left him feeling nauseated and as shaky as a newborn kitten.

Duke had woken first but stayed beside him until Nathan was awake enough to know that he was still there.  He gave him a soft kiss on the forehead and slipped out of bed, returning with a glass of water and a packet of painkillers.  “Thought you might need these,” he said quietly. “Some of those bruises…”

"Thanks," Nathan said sheepishly.  "Guess I really do need taking care of."

“At least you aren’t arguing with me,” Duke smiled.  “How are you feeling? Other than sore, I mean.”

"Like I got run over by my own truck.  Sore, stiff, nauseous, shaky…"

“You _look_ like you got run over by your truck,” Duke smirked.  “Mind if I borrow your phone?”

"Go for it.  Should get your own back soon, expect Audrey or Dwight will bring by any of your stuff that was held in evidence, or just drop it off at the Rouge."

Duke nodded and picked up Nathan’s phone to text Dwight a short list of stuff he needed, explaining that he didn’t feel ready to face the whole town yet.  There was a reply straight back, Dwight saying that he’d be there in half an hour or so and would leave everything at the door rather than disturb them.

“All sorted.  Want to try eating something, or have a bath, or just lounge on the couch and stare at a movie for a while?”

"God, no food," Nathan said quickly, turning faintly green.  

“Ok, no food.  Hot bath would help with the aches, if you feel up to it?”

"That does sound good," Nathan admitted.

“Ok,” Duke said softly, immediately going to the bathroom and turning the taps on.  He rummaged around in the cabinet and dug out a bottle of bath foam that looked as though it had been there for years.  A couple of minutes later, the bath was full of hot, foamy, scented, water and he went back to the bedroom. “All ready,” he told Nathan.

"Are you sure you're okay with doing all this?" Nathan asked, gritting his teeth against the pain as he got out of bed.  "I could have at least run my own bath."

“Yeah, I’m sure.  Let me help, Nate, please,” Duke said quietly.

"Okay," Nathan nodded.  "Could...I could maybe use a hand.  Feeling pretty stiff," he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Course,” Duke rushed to Nathan’s side to help him to the bathroom.  Even with the painkillers, Nathan was wincing and grimacing with each step they took and it was clear that he was severely downplaying his pain levels.  “Are you sure nothing’s broken? Maybe I should ask Gloria to stop by, check you over?”

"No need to bother her, can't be that bad if I'm just now feeling it.  Might stop by the clinic once I'm over the worst of this. Besides, she'd yell at you."

“I’ll deal with the yelling if you need checking out,” Duke didn’t add that he deserved every word of whatever she might say.

"It's fine.  Not like she can bring an x-ray machine over.  I can wait a few days to see if I get better."

Duke nodded.  Not much they could do for broken ribs anyway, other than painkillers, and he seemed to be moving ok apart from the stiffness.  “You need help getting in the bath? Or would you rather be alone?” He asked quietly.

Nathan hesitated.  "How weird is it to want your company?"

“Not weird at all.  Sharing a bath could be a lot of fun,” Duke smirked suggestively.

"Guess the tub's big enough," Nathan said, the innuendo going entirely over his head.

“Come on then,” Duke was already dropping his pants and climbing into the tub.

Nathan let Duke help him into the tub, a big old claw-foot monstrosity easily large enough for two.

Duke sat with his back to one end and encouraged Nathan to lean back against him.  Once Nathan was settled, he wrapped his arms around him. “Ok?” He murmured into Nathan’s ear.

"Perfect," Nathan murmured, relaxing against him.  He had assorted cuts and scrapes that stung, but that was nothing compared to the soothing heat of the water and the comfort of being in Duke's arms.

“Can’t believe how lucky I am that you can forgive me for everything,” Duke said quietly.

"You're okay.  You're here with me.  That's all that matters," Nathan told him.

Duke nodded and changed the subject.  “You planning on keeping the beard?”

Nathan made a face.  "No. I look like a hobo."

“Well...yeah,” Duke laughed.

"Got some barber scissors, will chop it off and clean it up once I feel better."

“Want me to?”  Duke asked hesitantly, unsure if he was overstepping.

"You'd do that?" Nathan brightened up.

“If you’ll let me.”

Nathan shifted in Duke's arms to return the embrace.  "Absolutely. I trust you, Duke."

“Thank you,” Duke whispered and kissed him softly on the forehead.

Nathan snuggled against him happily.  "Thank you for doing all this for me."

“You don’t need to thank me, Nathan, it’s just the right thing to do.  It would be the right thing to do even if it hadn’t been my fault you got into this mess in the first place.”

"I still appreciate it, though.  Right thing or not, it's really sweet of you."

Duke smiled.  “Just don’t go telling anyone, it’ll ruin my carefully cultivated reputation that Duke Crocker doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.”

"Good.  Should be ruined.  I hate the way people think about you," Nathan hugged tighter.

“People will always see what they want to,” Duke shrugged.  “Want me to wash your back?”

"Hopefully they'll see you better now," Nathan asked, turning back around and leaning forward invitingly.

“Don’t much care if they don’t.  The only person whose opinion I care about is yours,” Duke tried to sound off-hand.  He picked up a washcloth and soap and started to gently wash Nathan’s back, skirting around the worst of the bruises.

"I care," Nathan said softly.  "Want the whole world to see you the way I do.  So strong and so brave and so selfless, a guy who had everything in the whole world stacked against him and made good anyway because he's smart and hardworking and deserves every ounce of success."

“Selfless?!” Duke barked out incredulous laughter.  “After _everything_ I did to you, you think I’m _selfless_.”

"Yeah," Nathan said firmly.  "Never said you were perfect."

Duke leaned forwards and pulled Nathan back against him. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Nathan leaned back and stretched up for a kiss, even though his sore body resented it.  "You were the amazing, wonderful, great guy that I hope you'll someday believe yourself to be."

“Thank you for believing in me,” Duke said softly. “You're pretty fucking amazing yourself.”

Nathan didn't believe him but wasn't willing to argue, so he just kissed him again.

“Amazing and brave and strong and caring. Soft when you want to be, a badass when you need to be. You're the most incredible person I've ever met.”

Nathan tucked his head against Duke's shoulder, embarrassed by the praise.  "Wouldn't say that if you'd seen me these past few weeks."

“Yeah, I would,” Duke closed his arms around Nathan and held him tightly.

"I was a wreck.  Sat on the couch and drank.  Nothing else. Didn't shower, shave, eat, sleep….just drank.  Oh, and treated Audrey and Dwight like shit whenever they tried to help me."

“You were in hell - a hell that I put you in - and you still found the strength to keep breathing.”

"Only because I was too cowardly to die.  And eventually I gave that a shot."

Duke squeezed him tighter. “Doesn't make you any less strong, just means you were dealing with more than most people.”

"Plenty of people suffer the loss of loved ones every day and don't do what I did."

“Nathan... Don't. Don't compare your pain to anyone else’s. What I put you through, what you witnessed, was horrific. Don't think I don't know that.”

"I couldn't even help clear your name," Nathan said softly.  "Parker and Dwight kept looking for something, anything, but all I could think was that it didn't matter anymore, that nothing mattered."

“I’m sorry, Nate, I can't imagine how much pain you must've been in to feel like that.”

"It's okay.  You're here now.  That's all that matters."

Duke kissed him softly. “Add forgiving to the list of things that make you amazing.”

Nathan returned the kiss, hugging him close.  "How could I not? I only just got you back again, what kind of terrible fool would I be to drive you away?"

“See? Amazing,” Duke murmured, burying his head into Nathan's neck. “And you're turning into a prune. Ready to get out?”

"Guess so," Nathan agreed.  He felt that he should wash up while he was in the tub, but that hadn't been the purpose of the bath and he didn't want to push his luck with the aches the hot water had only just soothed.

Guessing the cause of Nathan's reluctance, Duke picked up the washcloth again and carefully, gently, washed Nathan. “Close your eyes,” he said, waiting for Nathan to do so before he cleaned his face, avoiding all of the freshly healed cuts and scrapes.

Nathan's expression was peaceful, almost blissful, as he relaxed in Duke's arms and let his lover tend to him.

Duke pressed a soft kiss to Nathan's temple. “Stay there,” he murmured before he climbed out of the tub, taking extra care not to jostle Nathan. He quickly dried off and perched on the side of the bath, reaching across for the bottle of shampoo. He poured a little into his hand and gently worked it into Nathan's hair, his fingers massaging and lightly scratching.

Nathan made a soft little sound of pleasure, his contentment only flickering when Duke's fingers found a bruise or cut hidden beneath the hair.

“Sorry,” Duke murmured each time he found a sore spot. He kissed Nathan on the cheek, picked up a jug which he filled with warm water from the sink, and rinsed the shampoo from his hair.

"That felt amazing," Nathan murmured when Duke had finished.

“Good,” Duke smiled. “Ready to get out?”

"Yeah.  Thanks for this," Nathan smiled, managing to make it out of the tub on his own.

“You're welcome,” Duke smiled back. He picked up a fresh towel and gently dried Nathan, taking extra care over his injuries.

Nathan leaned in to softly kiss Duke as he worked.  "You're amazing."

“Thank you for letting me do this,” Duke murmured.

"Be careful, I might decide I like it and want you to do it every day," Nathan smiled playfully.

“Every day is fine by me,” Duke said quietly.

"Sounds great," Nathan grinned.  "Just stay home and pamper each other, watch movies and order pizza, lounge around in bed - that sort of thing - all day every day until the end of time."

“Stay on the Rouge, chill out, shoot the breeze, I'd cook for you.”

Nathan hesitated a moment before admitting very quietly, "Be tough, seeing the Rouge again."

Duke nodded an acknowledgement.  Not surprising, given the circumstances he'd seen it last.   “Maybe I should move into the apartment instead.”

"Duke, no, it's your home, you don't have to give it up because of me.  I'll deal. Should just get over it, no excuse for chickening out."

“A home where someone was killed. A home where every nook and cranny has been rooted through by cops.  A home where I nearly destroyed you. No, Nathan, it doesn't feel much like home anymore. Time to put my past behind me for good.”

"Duke, are you sure?  I know what the Rouge means to you.  It's not just a home, it's your freedom, your escape plan, your backup way to make a living.  You had everything just how you wanted, all your wonderful things...if you're doing this for my sake, don't, please."

“I'm not,” Duke said quietly. “That day Audrey came with me so I could pick up some stuff. It didn't feel like home then and it doesn't feel any more like it now that I can go back. I don't need an escape plan any more, or a backup way to earn money, and I don't want that sort of freedom.”

Nathan hugged him tightly.  After a moment he asked softly, "Did you really mean you'd be okay staying with me?"

“Yeah, I really meant it. As often as you'd like.”

"You know...you could….no, sorry, it's too much.  Stupid idea. Don't mind me," Nathan mumbled.

“Could what?”

"I was gonna say, move in with me, but that's a dumb idea, you wouldn't want to live with a cop, let alone me," Nathan muttered.  "Just write it off as sleep deprivation or something."

Duke kissed him softly. “So ask me when you're not sleep deprived and we're both less emotional and in a better place for making big decisions. Ask me then and I'll say yes.”

"Really?  You'd want that?" Nathan asked, surprised.

“I’d want that,” Duke smiled.

Nathan hugged him tight.  "Me too, Duke. Want you here.  Want to fall asleep in your arms and wake up next to you and have lazy Sunday brunch and watch old movies and watch you do yoga.  Want to see all your amazing things from your travels around the house, add bookshelves for your library, hear your music, have a kitchen full of ingredients for you to cook with.  Want it to be _our_ place, not just you staying over at mine.  We can even get you another boat if you want - not a big one like the Rouge, but a little one so you can still go out on the ocean, know how much you love that."

“Yes, to all of that. I want to come home to you every night, talk about our days, watch you decoupage while I cook. I want to argue with you about who's turn it is to clean the bathroom and make you pancakes for breakfast every morning.”

Nathan hugged him all the more tightly.  "Yes, Duke, that's what I want. I want to live our lives together," his voice broke a little.

“So ask me again, in a few days maybe, when things are more settled. Ask me then and I'll pack up straight away.”

"I will.  I'll ask you every day, if that's what you want.  However many days you want me to wait, I will. Worth waiting for, getting to spend the rest of my life with you," Nathan promised, leaning in for a kiss.

“I don't want you to wait, I just want you to be sure and not just asking because emotions are running high. I don't want you to make a mistake.”

"Not a mistake, not unsure, it's the best decision I've ever made," Nathan stroked Duke's cheek.  "But for you, I'll wait. You're worth waiting a lifetime for."

Duke turned his face, leaning into the contact, just for a second before he looked back at Nathan again. _“Are you sure?”_ He asked, searching Nathan's face for any hint that he _might not be_.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," Nathan said without an instant's hesitation.

“Reckon it's too late to start packing up now?” Duke asked, a tiny, shy, smile on his lips.

Nathan beamed.  "I'll come with and help if you like."

“Not a chance. You're going to stay here and rest and order pizza so I can eat when I get back. Can I use your truck?”

"I mean….you can, but….are you sure I can't come?  I won't try to lift anything heavy or anything," Nathan said anxiously.  It was stupid, he told himself. Duke was perfectly real, and he was okay, and the whole ugly business was over.  There was no reason to be terrified of Duke leaving his sight, no matter what that idiot voice in the back of his head was screaming.

“Ok, tell you what, we'll both go and get my stuff from the apartment tonight, that's everything I really need anyway. And I'll call Dwight tomorrow and see when he can help me pack up the Rouge. How's that?” After what Nathan had said, Duke had absolutely no intention of letting him anywhere near the Rouge. He didn't need that.

"Okay," Nathan said, relieved.  Hopefully by the time Duke did need to move in fully, he'd have succeeded in telling the little voice to shut up.

Duke held him tightly, nuzzling into his hair. “I'm not going anywhere, Nate, I promise you that. The Rouge isn't home anymore and the Gull never was. Home is right here, by your side, and I'm never leaving again.”

Nathan hugged back just as tight.  "That makes me really happy," he said softly.

“Good,” Duke ducked his head and smiled against Nathan's neck. “I'll do everything I can to make sure you stay that way.”

"I'll be your home for as long as you want," Nathan promised.

“Forever?”

"For the rest of our lives, if that's what you want," Nathan smiled.

Duke nodded. “That's what I want. Nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Nathan's smile grew, and he hugged Duke close.  "Then welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read this, hope you enjoyed! And extra thanks to those who have left kudos and comments <3


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